


Child Soldiers

by GriffinRose



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Al finally gets a cat, Brainwashing, Confusion, Deception, Gen, Happy Ending, Lies, Parental Roy, Pre-Series, Protectiveness, Things Don't Go As Planned, War, but when do they ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 40,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GriffinRose/pseuds/GriffinRose
Summary: They all joked about how short Ed was, but truthfully they often forgot how young he really was. When war threatens them, Mustang makes the decision to keep Ed out of it, no matter what it takes. Of course, everything in the universe seems to be against this very noble endeavor. Ed ends up on the front lines anyway. Only, he's fighting for Creta?Now Mustang is just very confused, and there isn't enough coffee in the world to help him deal with this.*Updates on Sundays and Thursdays! (hopefully)





	1. Storm Brewing

Colonel Mustang stood at his window, hands folded behind his back. An open newspaper lay on his desk, a black headline announcing “Tensions with Creta Grow.” 

He didn’t like it. There had been skirmishes along the west border for a while now, and the Fuhrer had been in negotiations for over three years with the King. Their last meeting apparently didn’t go well. King Damocles had stormed out of the room past the waiting reporters. When one stopped him for questioning, he glared at them and said Amestris’s days were numbered. 

Mustang didn’t like it at all. A threat like that…they were heading for an all-out war. 

He rubbed the glove in his pocket. If war did come…it would only be a matter of time until he was sent to the front lines. All state alchemists would be. 

“Lieutenant Hawkeye?” he called. 

She popped her head in through the door. “Yes sir?”

“Send for Fullmetal.”

“Didn’t you just send him off on assignment yesterday?” she asked. “He would have left town by now.”

“Call him back,” Mustang ordered. 

Hawkeye raised a brow. “Very well.” She closed the door again, leaving Mustang to his thoughts. 

Fullmetal would be pissed beyond belief, especially if it turned out he was wrong. It was a casualty he was willing to take. 

Xx

Two days later, Mustang amended his statement. Fullmetal wasn’t pissed. He was furious. The beansprout had barged in, denting the wall again and screaming at the top of his lungs. 

“I don’t believe you! You send us out on some damn mission to inspect another corrupt bastard and then as soon as we get there you call us back! Make up your damn mind!” he ranted. His brother stepped in behind him, hands up in a fruitless effort to calm him down. 

Mustang didn’t even try. He just raised a brow and inquired if Fullmetal was finished yet or not. 

Fullmetal stomped closer, slamming a fist onto his desk. “No, no I’m not finished! Because of you we just wasted three days travelling around for nothing! Do you know how much research I could have done in that amount of time?”

“Not enough to actually be any closer to your goal, so shut up and sit down,” Mustang said. 

“What? How would you know?” Fullmetal yelled. 

Mustang rubbed his forehead. “Can you at least stop yelling?” 

“I’ll stop when I’m good and ready!” 

Mustang sighed. This was impressive, even for Fullmetal. Mustang hadn’t even called him short to his face. He did understand the kid’s frustration; he would have been pissed to if he’d had to travel around for three days without any understanding why. But he also would have bit his tongue and followed orders, like a good dog of the military. 

He pulled out the newspaper from the other day. “Read this.”

“What the Hell for?” he demanded. He took the paper nonetheless. 

“Alphonse, please shut the door.”

“Oh, yes sir,” Alphonse said. The door clicked shut. 

“What’s so special about this?” Fullmetal asked. His eyes scanned the front page, and he quickly flipped through the other pages. 

Honestly, Mustang had mainly given it to him to try and calm him down a little. It seemed like it worked. The kid’s face didn’t match his coat anymore, at least. 

“The main headline, on the front page,” Mustang said. 

Fullmetal flipped back. “What about it?”

Mustang folded his hands in front of his face. “How much do you know about our situation with Creta?”

The kid shrugged. “I know we’ve had skirmishes with them for the last decade, but we have skirmishes with everyone.”

“While that may be true, Creta is one of the only nations we’ve been actively trying to ally with. However, they want a portion of our land. Bradley refuses to give it to them. When they tried to negotiate a ceasefire last week, it didn’t end well. King Damocles threatened that Amestris’s days were numbered.”

“And what does this have to do with me?” Fullmetal asked, crossing his arms. 

“If I have my way, nothing,” Mustang said. 

Fullmetal raised a brow. “Then why—”

“Don’t you get it?” Mustang asked, lowering his hands. “Creta is threatening war.”

“Yeah, I get that.” His eyes widened. “Oh. So if they actually start a war…”

Mustang nodded. “You’ll likely be called to the front lines.”

Mustang had to give the kid credit. He had paled and was trying his best not to tremble.

“How likely is a war?” Alphonse asked. 

“Hard to say,” Mustang admitted, folding his hands in front of his face again. “But it’s higher than I’d like. Creta will increase their efforts on our borders, and it’s already ugly enough out there. I wouldn’t put it past Bradley to take any increased aggression as a sign and send us in to end it early.”

Edward nodded. “When will that be?” 

“Any day, if Creta is going to do anything at all,” Mustang said. “That’s why I called you back.” 

Ed furrowed his brow. 

Mustang stood from his desk and walked closer to Ed, dropping his voice to a low whisper. “What I’m telling you now doesn’t leave this room, understand?”

Both boys nodded. 

“They’ll call any State alchemists to the front line, but if you’re already missing, they won’t be expecting you.”

Fullmetal tilted his head. 

“I’ll send you back out to Grendel to inspect those mines, but you won’t arrive,” Mustang said. “You’ll have to figure out the details yourself, but go into hiding. Take as many research materials as you want; this could be a while.” 

“What if you need to get in contact with us?” Alphonse asked. 

“I shouldn’t need to,” Mustang said. “More importantly, I shouldn’t be able to find you. If I can find you, anyone in the military can.”

Ed and Al glanced at each other. “You really think there’s going to be a war?” Al asked. 

“I think the chance is high enough that it’s worth getting you out of the line of fire,” Mustang said. 

Ed nodded and put a hand to his chin. “I probably won’t be able to use my watch, will I?”

Mustang shook his head. “That would be a dead giveaway.” 

The boys were silent. “So what’s our story for why you called us back?” Ed asked, smiling. 

Mustang smirked. “You forgot to turn in your last report.” 

“What?” Ed exclaimed. “I know I handed it in!” He handed the newspaper back to Mustang. 

Mustang took it and returned to his seat. “If I had it, Fullmetal, do you really think I would have called you back? You think I just love seeing your face that much?” His voice was back at its usual pitch, as was Fullmetal’s, unfortunately.

“That’s still no reason to call me back! It could have waited until I finished in Grendel at least!” 

“Oh yeah right. I’ll be lucky if I see that within a week of your return!” Mustang said. “I want that report, Fullmetal. Before you leave again!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just lose it?” Fullmetal glared. The look wasn’t quite up to his usual standards, but the argument had at least returned the color to his face. 

“Of course I didn’t lose it!” Mustang said. “I can’t lose something I never got!” 

“Why didn’t you tell me over the phone? I could have done it on the train!” Fullmetal complained. 

“I have a hard enough time reading your handwriting without trying to account for a bumpy train.”

“So now I have to waste another two days writing up a report I already gave you just because you can’t keep yourself organized?” Fullmetal demanded. He crossed his arms. 

Mustang noted again how much credit Fullmetal deserved. He’d picked up on what Mustang was doing immediately and had run with it, no questions asked. He even bought himself time before leaving to get ready. 

“It’s your own fault. Maybe if you’re reports weren’t so short I wouldn’t have such a hard time remembering them,” Mustang said. 

“Who are you calling so short a piece of paper could crush him?!” Fullmetal yelled. Still not up to his usual volume, but it would have been odd if they’d been arguing and no one overheard a short-joke-induced rant. It would pass most people’s observations. 

Alphonse sighed. “No one said anything like that, brother.” 

Fullmetal still fumed. “I’ll have your damn report in two days. And then I’m leaving for Grendel!” He stomped out of the room, slamming the door open from the inside and rushing past the rest of Mustang’s crew. Alphonse followed dutifully behind, apologizing for his brother’s antics. 

Hawkeye came into the doorway to close his door for him. “Must you antagonize him, sir?”

“He makes it too easy,” Mustang said. 

She sighed, her eyes cutting to the second door the Elrics had gone through. “You didn’t really lose his report, did you?” 

Damn. Mustang hadn’t considered how observant she was. But no one could know about this, not even her. There was a reason he hadn’t asked for details on how Ed planned to disappear. The less people that knew, the less that would be able to find him. 

“Like I told him, do you really think I called him back just because I missed him?” 

Hawkeye stared at him. “No, that wouldn’t be like you at all,” she said. She closed the door, leaving Mustang to his scheming. 

He glanced at the newspaper again. He could be wrong. There might not be a war. He might be sending Fullmetal off for nothing, and making it really difficult to find him if nothing happened. But he trusted Fullmetal to keep an eye on the news. He would find a way to contact Mustang if nothing happened, to find out if he could come back or not. The kid was smart. 

Mustang had to trust that. It was all he had to hold onto.


	2. Battening Down the Hatches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed's a prodigy alchemist, how hard could going into hiding be? He just has to figure out how to hide a 7 foot tall suit of armor...

The first thing the Elrics did upon leaving Mustang’s office was not immediately pack everything they own or even grab every book they could find. Alphonse would have expected either of those to be their best options, that or start withdrawing money. 

Ed went to the newsstand first and asked for copies of every daily paper for the last month. The person manning the newsstand blinked. “We don’t hang onto to them that long, but I have the ones from the last week.”

“That’ll work.” 

The man ducked under the counter. 

“Brother?” Al asked. 

“I’m just doing some digging.” 

“I thought you trusted the colonel?” 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ed said. 

The man popped back into view with the papers. Ed dropped a handful of coins on the counter, grabbed the papers, and ran off. 

“Uh, Ed? Maybe we should start being a little more careful with our money,” Al said. 

“Oh, right. Maybe.” 

He sat down on a bench in the park and started skimming through the papers, looking only for information about the relations between Creta and Amestris. He found the article Mustang had shown him and he read it in full. 

Had he not known the colonel’s prediction, Ed probably would have missed the signs. A couple people didn’t get along, one of them stormed out and made a threat. Ed did that all the time without actually following up on it. But when these people were the leaders of two different countries…that threat carried a lot more weight. 

“What do you think brother?” Al asked. He’d been skimming too, but the papers were surprisingly quiet. Other than that one article, they’d only found one other brief blurb about King Damocles returning to Creta earlier than expected. 

Ed put a hand on his chin. “It’s hard to know what to think. It all just feels like an overreaction.”

“Colonel Mustang has been dealing with this sort of thing longer than we have,” Alphonse said. “Maybe we should just trust him.” 

It was a long minute before Ed answered. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go start planning.”

Ed stopped at the bank and withdrew his first large sum of money. It was his habit to randomly stop by the banks and suddenly request a lot of money, typically when he found a bookstore he’d never been to before. The request wasn’t out of his norm, so the bankers didn’t even blink an eye. They returned to their dorm and spread out a map of Amestris on the kitchen table. “Where should we go?” Alphonse asked. 

“It can’t be anywhere we’ve been before,” Ed said. “And we shouldn’t put too much thought into it. Some random place will be harder to find.” 

“But we should still think it out,” Alphonse argued. “We don’t want to end up in a warzone by accident.”

“No,” Ed agreed. His eyes drifted to the west side of the map. As much as he didn’t want to be part of the war, this still felt like running away. It felt like cowardice. How could Mustang actually expect him to just hide while all of this blew over?

“Maybe some place down here?” Al asked, pointing to the southern part of the map. “We don’t know many places down here, and the fighting shouldn’t spread out this far.”

Ed nodded. “Sounds good. Now, how to get there?” 

“Can’t we just take the train?” Al asked. 

Ed shook his head. “Eventually, maybe. But if we supposedly go missing from Grendel, the trains are the first place they’ll look. It would be easy to track us.” 

“What if we got on a train south instead of going to Grendel, and then in a few days we called Mustang and told him we were in Grendel?” Al suggested. “That way, if anyone asks, he can have confirmation that we were in Grendel even though we were long gone by then.”

“Push off the investigation,” Ed muttered. It might work. If the military thought they went missing later than they actually did, then it might just be enough to slip past them. “Risky, but we’ll have to try.” 

“Should we have disguises too?” Al asked. 

“Yeah, we’re both easy to pick out of a crowd,” Ed said. “I can cut and dye my hair, and I’ll lose the red coat. You’ll be a little trickier…” 

“Transmute my armor,” Al said. 

“What?”

“You’re the only one who can. I’ve thought about it before, and I think it could work,” Al said. “You can make me small enough to fit into regular clothes, and then I can just wear a hat and scarf. No one would recognize me.”

Ed blinked. Transmute the armor? Of course he could do it…he should have offered ages ago…Al hated that hulking body…but it had come in handy during fights. And making him small enough to dress…that would save a lot of questions. Not as many people would even pass them a second glance then. 

“That’s genius Al!” 

The soul eyes crinkled and Al gave his tinny laugh, and Ed swore that metal face smiled whenever Al did that. 

Xx

The boys spent the next day at the library, looking for books that could possibly be useful in their research. While they would have loved to have taken all of them, the library only let them borrow so many. And the librarians were going to be pissed when the boys didn’t bring them back. 

They limited themselves to four books, and an armful of notes from other books. Al would carry this material in his suitcase while Ed packed clothes for both of them. 

That idea was strange to Edward. He wasn’t sure what size Al would be when Ed finally transmuted him, so it was hard to judge what clothes he would need. But Ed also needed more inconspicuous clothes for himself, so he bought a whole trunkful. His current clothes would stay for now, but he’d sell them for cash somewhere along the way. 

Ed then spent the night rewriting the old report for Colonel Mustang, making it sound as close to the last one as possible. He tried to reserve his snark for auditory comments to Al, making his brother giggle through half the night. 

It set both their minds at ease. 

The enormity of what they were trying to do was finally sinking in. The risk Mustang was taking for them…

Best case scenario Edward and Alphonse would be declared missing. The state would look for them, but with a coming war the brothers would not be the main priority. Since they would be missing before the war started, it was unlikely anyone would think they had actually run away. 

In a worse scenario Edward would be considered AWOL, and the state would probably court martial him when he finally came out of hiding or if they found him first. Unpleasant, but Ed could handle it. 

The worst case scenario would be if Mustang’s orders were discovered. Ed would be excused for simply following his superior officer’s orders, but Mustang would no doubt suffer severe punishment for sending an alchemist away with a coming war. Though, if Mustang ever came under question like that, the man could likely come up with some kind of cover for what the boys were doing. Ed trusted Mustang to keep himself out of trouble. 

He finished his report around three in the morning. Al had finished packing and repacking everything, even finding a way to store extra food. How Al managed to pack everything they owned and still leave room was beyond Ed’s understanding. But he was grateful for it all the same. 

“You should get some sleep, brother,” Al said. 

Ed looked over the two suitcases. He’d had to buy a second one today too, for Al. It almost felt…normal. Like how everything should be between the two of them, if they hadn’t committed the taboo. 

“Yeah, okay.” Ed climbed into the bed and Al turned off the light, taking up his usual position on the other bed. Ed reminded himself just how abnormal the two of them were. Al might start wearing clothes again soon, and he might be small enough to blend in with a crowd, but he would still be an empty suit of armor. 

No matter how much they pretended, nothing about them was normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope you're liking it so far! Do me a favor and leave a review or some kudos? Let me know what you think so far! I thrive on feedback!


	3. Weigh Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying goodbye is never easy, especially when you don't know if you'll actually see each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are the chapter titles all nautical references? No idea. It just sort of happened and I'm rolling with it.

Mustang hadn’t slept. That in itself wasn’t that unusual. Nightmares kept him up pretty often, and stress usually prevented a restful night of sleep on top of that. And to say the last few days had been stressful was an understatement. 

Even the cafeteria’s watery coffee tasted like heaven today. 

His foot tapped impatiently while he sat at his desk, sorting his paperwork into order of most pressing. 

A rap on his door preceded Hawkeye’s entrance, her arms carrying another stack of newspaper and _bless her soul she had another cup of coffee._

“This just came in, sir,” she said, setting the bundle down on the desk. 

Mustang reached for the caffeine, pausing as the papers caught his eye. The top of the stack was today’s newspaper. 

“Since when did you start delivering my paper?” Mustang asked. He finished his initial reach for the coffee and brought the cup to his lips. It was lukewarm by now, but he’d take any caffeine he could get.

“Since you started collecting them,” Hawkeye said. 

He raised a brow. How did she figure that one out? He had kept a few in his drawer over the last week, but how could she have known that it was anything more than just keeping up with current events?

She didn’t offer any explanation or ask any questions, which Mustang appreciated. 

“I don’t know where you came up with that idea,” Mustang started, pulling the paper off the stack, “but thank you.” Usually he waited until lunch to look for a copy, but he certainly appreciated being able to check on things now. 

“You’re welcome.” She nodded her head before dismissing herself, closing the door behind her. 

Mustang took the paper and spun his chair so his back was to the new pile of paperwork. The front page detailed a nasty car wreck from the night before and had a small article about a beloved restaurant closing. The only hint of any politics throughout the whole paper was the weekly interview with Grumman about the security of the city. 

He frowned and folded the paper back up. If Creta was going to initiate war, why haden’t they made a move yet? Damocles went back to his country three days ago…that was more than enough time to put together a raid. What was he waiting for? 

Standing from his desk, he stood in front of his window and folded his hands behind his back. Outside, the courtyard was filled with training cadets. Their sparring was sloppy, turning into something only marginally better than a bar fight. 

Maybe Damocles couldn’t get support from his generals. That was the only reason he could think of for why he hadn’t attacked. Or he was trying to lull them. He says a threat, they panic, he quietly builds his forces while they calm down, and then he strikes. 

It was what Mustang would do.

Their spies hadn’t reported any increased level of activity in Creta, at least not that Mustang knew. Hughes kept him in the loop on most of these things, and Mustang had specifically asked the man to keep him informed the other day. Once the usual gushing was over, Hughes had finally gotten serious and agreed with Mustang. He thought it likely Damocles would start a full out war. 

The more time that passed without any new information though, the more Mustang doubted his initial instincts. 

Should he still send Fullmetal off into hiding when it looked like this might turn into nothing?

Could they afford the risk if it did?

He stayed by the window, debating pros and cons all the way until Fullmetal himself barged through his door. The headache was instantaneous. 

“If you’re going to keep breaking my wall,” Mustang said, “You could at least have the curtesy to fix it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fullmetal said. He had come alone today, no brother hulking behind him. He tossed the report onto Mustang’s desk. “Here’s the report you lost.”

“I never lose anything,” Mustang said, finally turning from the window. If not for the terrible handwriting glaring up at him, he almost wouldn’t be able to tell which paper it was on the mess his desk had become. 

Fullmetal snorted. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Well, I might lose you in a crowd, since you’re so short and all.”

“Who you calling puny?! So short people just walk all over him?! Huh? Say it to my face!” 

Mustang couldn’t help the grin on his face. The kid just made it so easy… “I would, but it’s so hard to kneel down to your level…”

“You old man! I’ll take your cane and beat you over the head with it! Then we’ll see who the short one is!”

“You wouldn’t even be able to reach me to beat me over the head.” Had Mustang just admitted he was old? 

“Shut up! I’ll cut your feet off and throw ‘em out the window!” 

“Careful,” Mustang said. “Keep that up and I’ll have to court martial you.” 

He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “Can I go yet? Al’s waiting for me at the station.”

“You can spare a few minutes while I read your report,” Mustang said. “It won’t take long.”

He would have sworn he saw Ed’s eye twitch at the hinted short joke, but the kid held his temper back. 

Mustang settled into his chair and picked up the report. A second sheet of paper came loose, also in Ed’s handwriting. Curious, Mustang looked at this one first. Fullmetal’s reports were never longer than a page. 

This paper wasn’t about his last assignment. This one was about Grendel. A made up report for the inspection he was supposed to do, dated with the approximate date he would have likely returned. Mustang raised a brow as he looked it over. Everything seemed in order. The only reason he knew it was falsified was because Fullmetal was still standing in front of him and hadn’t had enough time when he was in Grendel before. Some of the names might be real, but no one looking at this would be able to tell the difference. 

_Smart kid_ , Mustang thought. He just bought himself an extra week or two before Mustang had to file a missing in action report. On paper, it would look like he was still here, even though he wasn’t. And he was trusting Mustang to come up with a second assignment to send him off on, to throw people off the trail. 

The only people who would really know Fullmetal hadn’t been in the office would be Mustang’s team, and if they noticed Mustang covering for the kid they would follow his lead without question. 

“Well, everything seems to be in order,” Mustang said. He slipped the Grendel report into his top drawer. “You’re ready to leave then?” _Ready to disappear?_

Fullmetal shrugged. “It’s just another assignment. Another few days keeping us from research.” _Don’t worry about me. I’ll just be researching the stone._

“I wouldn’t want to keep you from that. You’re dismissed.” _Be careful._

Fullmetal nodded and walked towards the door. He paused and glanced back. “Mustang? Thanks.” He disappeared a second later, walking out past the rest of Mustang’s team. If they heard the boy’s last comment, they didn’t say anything. 

Of course Fullmetal had left Mustang’s door open, but it was one of the few times he hadn’t stormed off screaming, so none of his subordinates jumped up to close it. He got up himself and softly shut it, returning to look out his window afterwards. 

It took a few minutes, but Mustang finally spotted the bright red coat walking towards the station. Fullmetal had agreed to the plan easier than Mustang had expected, which only made him feel worse. The kid had shown more trust to him these last few days than Mustang had ever seen of him. 

Mustang would be sure not to let him down. He would do everything he could to keep him safe. 

The coat turned a corner, disappearing from Mustang’s sight. 

_Be careful, Fullmetal. I can keep the military off your tail for a while, but it’s up to you to disappear and keep yourself safe. Don’t let me down._

Xx

Alphonse stood outside the train station, both suitcases at his feet. Ed walked up to him and took his, smiling at his little brother. “Ready?” 

“Mmhmm,” Al murmured. They bought tickets for the first train leaving and hurried aboard, claiming the last open seats at the back of the train. Suitcases stowed underneath, they settled themselves in as the train started to pull away. 

Both of them watched East city shrink into the distance behind them. It could be months or even a year before they saw it again. It felt a lot like when they left Resembool.

“Hey brother?” Al asked. 

Ed tore his gaze away from the window. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we could get a cat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the chapters will eventually get longer, just bear with me!  
> Don't forget to leave a review! I thrive on feedback!


	4. Set Sail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys complete their disguises to go into hiding and settle into their new home.

Small was the best word the Elrics would use to describe this town. The population couldn’t have been more than five hundred people. It was the first place they’d stopped after leaving East city. They’d been hoping to hide here for a week or two, and then they’d change their appearance and board another train with new names. 

This town seemed a little too small though. Their presence would be remembered. Ed faked some automail pain and they stayed in the station overnight, boarding the first train in the morning. Anyone who asked the townspeople about the two of them wouldn’t learn anything from the event. If anyone even stopped in this town. 

The second town was a little bigger, at least five thousand people. It was easier to hide. That first night in the hotel room, they set to work on their new identities. 

Alphonse picked up a pair of scissors and approached Ed. He shut his eyes and allowed his golden locks to fall. Al had never cut anyone’s hair before in his life, so it wasn’t too surprising when the final result ended up lopsided. A patch on the left side of Ed’s head was shorter than the rest, and Ed’s bangs fell unevenly across his forehead. 

Ed, who had been determined to hate it either way, merely sighed and got the hair dye out. Dipping his bangs into the water, he dulled the golden hue to a rich brown, close to their mother’s color. 

“Well, how do I look?” Ed asked. 

Al took a minute to answer. “Not at all like yourself.”

“Good, that means it’s working. Now it’s your turn.” 

This was the trickier part. Ed needed to condense the seven-foot armor to a more respectable six feet and shrink the overall girth without hindering his brother’s movements or messing with the blood seal. He’d been thinking about it ever since Al brought it up, and he was finally ready to try. 

“Ready?” Ed asked. 

“Do it,” Al said. 

Ed clapped his hands and pressed them to his brother’s back. The armor melted into itself, filling up the hollowness inside. The spikes receded. Al’s body seemed to fold up, slowly filling less and less space. 

By the time Ed was finished, he almost didn’t recognize his brother. Height-wise, he wasn’t that different, but was much leaner now. Ed had moved most of the extra metal to Al’s arms and legs, trying to leave the chest cavity empty to avoid the blood seal, but the chest plate was thicker than it used to be. The joints still worked the same way, Ed had made sure of that, and he had also modified his brother’s helmet. He had molded some of the metal to look like ears and had popped out part of the face plate like a nose. It wasn’t perfect; anyone could see that it was all still metal, but under a hat and scarf it would pass initial scrutiny, especially if the boys kept themselves away from most people like they were planning. 

Al looked himself over and moved around a bit, getting used to the new distribution of weight. “It’s…strange,” he said. There wasn’t as much clanking when he moved, only heavy thuds from his footsteps. 

“It’s going to take some getting used to, for both of us,” Ed said. His brother may look more human now, but it still didn’t look like him. It just looked wrong. Ed wished he could take it back, undo the transformation and just say to hell with it, but he knew he couldn’t. Anyone who saw Alphonse would know he wasn’t far away, and them splitting up wasn’t an option. 

Neither was him going to war. He couldn’t kill, wouldn’t kill. On a battlefield, that would only get him killed, and that most definitely was not an option. 

It was the only reason he agreed to this plan. 

“Now we need names,” Alphonse said. 

Ed frowned. He hated this plan. “Yeah, guess so. Think I could pass for a Larry?” 

“Why would you want to?” Al asked. 

Ed smiled. “Come on, it’d be fun!” 

“No, I’m not calling you that.” 

“Ah, fine. What would you call me then?”

“Hmmm. How about Zachary?” 

“Zachary?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s so…”

“Too late. I’m calling you Zach.” 

“Fine whatever. I’m calling you Drew.”

“No! That name’s terrible!” Alphonse complained.

“It’s no worse than Zachary.”

“I like Nick.” 

“Nick?”

“Yep. I want to be Nicholas.” 

Ed sighed and rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. You can be Nick.” 

“Zachary and Nicholas,” Alphonse said. “They’ll work.”

Ed rubbed his forehead. “I really hope this blows over quickly.”

“I’m sure it will.” 

Edward had his doubts. “Anyway, ready to try on some clothes?” 

“Yeah!” 

The two spent the next several hours adjusting the clothes and Al himself at times to make sure he at least had a few things that fit and wouldn’t tear if he moved the wrong way. More than one shirt had to be mended with alchemy. 

By the time Ed went to bed, he was convinced clothes would be what ruined their disguise. 

They moved on from that town a few days later, picking a larger one to finally settle down for a few months. They found a cheap apartment and paid ahead for four months, no questions asked. The landlord merely tipped his hat and thanked them. 

It didn’t take long to figure out why the apartment was so cheap. Cracked plaster, leaky faucets, squeaky floorboards, and a pervasive mildew smell everywhere. It was one bedroom, with a kitchen, living room, and bathroom, but the boys didn’t need more than that.

“Well, it’s not much,” Ed commented. 

“We can fix most of this stuff though,” Al said. 

“Let’s start by opening some windows, it reeks in here.” 

“Oh, okay.” Al hurried to comply. Soon enough they had all the windows open, and then they set to work fixing the other problems with some quick alchemy. 

“There, home sweet home,” Ed said. 

“What now?” 

“Food, definitely food.” Ed put a hand to his stomach and sagged where he was standing. Al was quick to grab the few provisions they had packed, and Ed picked out a box of noodles. 

That was when they discovered they owned no actual cookware. 

“Can we transmute something?” Al asked. 

After searching around for a while, they finally decided to dismantle Al’s bed and use the metal to make some basic pots and pans, some plates, bowls, and silverware. They were crude and extremely thin, and probably wouldn’t survive many uses, but they worked for now. 

When Ed finished eating, the two unpacked their suitcases. The living room became the study, despite the lack of current furniture. It would be on the list of things the boys needed to acquire during their stay. 

With nothing else to do, they cracked open the books. Tomorrow they would explore the town and see what they could do about finding jobs for themselves. Ed was also eager to find a newspaper and check in with the current events. 

For the moment, they were content in their little apartment with their books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make the chapters longer I swear, but this one ended up shorter. The next one will be longer I promise!
> 
> Please Review! Feedback gives me life and motivates me to write faster! If I get far enough ahead I'll start posting more!


	5. Charting a Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang discovers how difficult it is to pretend you're worried about someone you know is actually fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nautical themed chapter titles mean absolutely nothing but I am Committed now.

Mustang had thought he’d done some pretty impressive things during his military career. He’d been the Hero of Ishval at only twenty-four years old and had risen in rank until becoming a Lieutenant Colonel at thirty years old, one of the youngest in history. He’d scouted out the best State Alchemist Amestris had ever seen. He’d closed the Barry the Chopper case, and it had been him that originally realized the murderous Slicer had in fact been two brothers. He had even found leads on a stone that supposedly didn’t exist and sent his subordinate on missions following those leads without the state realizing what those missions were actually about. 

But, of all his accomplishments, his new task would probably be the hardest. And no one could even know about it. 

He had to search for a missing state alchemist while simultaneously sabotaging the search and preventing the state alchemist from being found. This was not going to be easy. 

A week after Fullmetal and his brother left for Grendel, he filed the forged report. Factoring in a few days for the boys to ‘research,’ he then opened a new case for them in Dacoun. A few days later, he started asking Hawkeye and the others if Fullmetal had called yet. 

Hawkeye’s brow pulled together. “No, sir. I was not aware we were expecting him to call.” 

Mustang frowned. “He should be in Dacoun by now on that new assignment.” 

One blonde eyebrow raised, asking a silent question: What new assignment? 

“Would you like me to call the hotels in Dacoun and see if he’s checked in?” Hawkeye asked. 

Mustang nodded. “And if he has, make sure the clerk tells that pipsqueak to call me.” 

Dacoun was big enough that it would have a few hotels, so it would take Hawkeye an hour or two to call them all. Then it would be late enough in the day that he could easily push off any actual investigative efforts until tomorrow, almost two weeks after the boys had already gone into hiding. 

He only prayed they were deep and buried. Hiding a seven foot tall suit of armor would not be easy, and as soon as a national search was announced the boys would be easy to find. But Fullmetal would have thought of that, and they would have taken precautions. He hoped. 

He spent the rest of the day dutifully ignoring his paperwork, listening to Hawkeye on the phone. Her voice never wavered with each place she called, but he did note that after an hour she was making the calls faster and her words had become rather curt. 

It was the first time he realized this investigation would be so much worse for his subordinates. He was making them actively worry about Fullmetal, and he was denying them the knowledge that the kid was okay. They might understand when everything was over, and they’d mainly be grateful that Fullmetal was alright, but still…Mustang felt the guilt coil in his stomach. It was a feeling he would have to get used to. 

Hearing the doorknob turn, Mustang scrambled for a piece of paper and made a show of reading it. 

“Sir?” Hawkeye said, entering the room. “I called every hotel, bed and breakfast, and even the train station in Dacoun. No one has seen Fullmetal or Alphonse. It doesn’t appear they’ve arrived yet.” 

Mustang nodded, then glanced at the clock. It was just about dinnertime. If he were actually worried about Fullmetal’s whereabouts, he probably would have started the investigation right then. As it was, he needed one hell of an excuse to throw his ever observant Lieutenant off his trail. 

“It’s possible they needed to take a detour for some reason,” Mustang said. “I’ll give him one more day to call.” _I’m sorry I can’t give you more time, kid._

“Yes sir,” Hawkeye said. She turned to walk back out, calling out one last thing. “It might be helpful if you turned your paperwork right-side up, sir.” 

Mustang glanced down as she walked out. The paper was indeed upside down. He blinked. One of these days he would figure out how she did that…

XX

There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to help Mustang get through the following day. He had ended up strategizing the entire night for every possible scenario in the false investigation of Fullmetal’s whereabouts. Every plan had three back-up plans, and his reactions were carefully crafted. He needed to be cool and composed, but his subordinates knew what he was like when any of them were in danger. He needed to be able to display that side to them. 

Now he was groggily going through the paperwork he hadn’t done the day before, a white mug of black coffee clutched in his left hand. 

There was no reason for Fullmetal to have gone anywhere near Dacoun, so there wouldn’t be any clues to find there. Even if they stopped at every station between here and there, chances are Fullmetal hadn’t been at any of them. Even if he had, that should have been last week, and not the last few days like the investigation would question. And even if anyone had seen the kid and brought it up, it would be easy to dispute. _Fullmetal was in Grendel at that time, it couldn’t have been him._

He signed a damage report. 

Following up on Dacoun should keep everyone busy for a few days, especially if they were checking every station between here and there. Once that was done, the next logical step would be to interrogate East City Station on when they had last seen the kid. Since he hadn’t gone to Dacoun, they would need to figure out where he _had_ gone. 

Fullmetal came in and out of that station all the time. Mustang had no doubt they wouldn’t get any useful information from them. If they said they hadn’t seen the kid in over two weeks, then it would tell his subordinates that Fullmetal hadn’t left by train. The kid never traveled any other way, so they would assume he must have been kidnapped from East city. They would take to the streets, questioning people. 

No one would answer that they’d seen Fullmetal recently, which would leave them with nothing. No leads, no clues, not even an accurate date on which the kid had gone missing. 

Mustang sipped at his coffee. 

Trying to solve a case when you didn’t even know the time frame was hard. There were too many variables to work with, and everything blurred into each other. 

An official Missing In Action report would be filed then, and since none of them even had any leads the case would inevitably get dragged to Central. Mustang would argue to hold on to it for as long as he could; it was his subordinate after all, and no one was invested as he was in the case. That might buy him a month, but that would be long enough. 

Any trace Fullmetal would have left would be frozen by then, and it wouldn’t do the bigshots at Central any good. More importantly, it would be on record that Fullmetal was officially missing, and if war did come, he wouldn’t be expected to report. 

That was the whole point of this, after all. 

Mustang just needed to make sure no one suspected he was in on it. Better if people thought something tragic had befallen the famed State Alchemist. Then when all this was over and the kid returned just fine…well, he had plenty of time to think of a cover story later. First he needed to convince everyone that Fullmetal was actually missing. 

Which, technically, he was. Mustang didn’t have a clue where the kid and his brother had gone. He hadn’t wanted to know. He couldn’t accidentally give anything away if there was nothing there. 

Everything would work out perfectly. 

He sipped his coffee. 

The phone rang. When glaring didn’t make it shut off, he reluctantly lifted the piece from the receiver. “Colonel Mustang.”

“Hey buddy!” Hughes’s voice, normally bubbly and energetic, was intolerable this morning. 

“Hughes, this better be important.” There definitely was not enough coffee in the world for this. His cup was half empty already. 

“Isn’t it always?” the man replied. “My daughter is the most important thing in the world, after all. Oh you should have heard her last night! She’s finally learning to say Da-da!” 

Mustang would have rubbed his temples if that hadn’t meant relinquishing the black elixir in his hand. “Hughes.” 

“Well, you’re more of a sour-puss than usual,” Hughes stated. “Any particular reason?” 

There were a plethora of responses he could have gone with, but his tactical mind, also not quite awake after the all-nighter, decided for him. “I may or may not have a missing subordinate. Now will you make this quick?” 

It was partially a good idea. Letting on now that Fullmetal was MIA sowed the seed for later, when he made it official. On the other hand, Hughes’s was one of the best investigative officers out there and he had a personal connection to the kid. 

“Wait, hold on. Which subordinate?” The change from happy-go-lucky to serious thinker was so drastic Mustang could almost picture it. The focused gaze, the set jaw…it was like Hughes was right in front of him instead of miles away. 

Mustang sighed. “Fullmetal hasn’t reported in yet. It’s probably nothing. He gets like this sometimes, thinks he doesn’t have to tell me things.” 

“How long has it been since you heard from him?” Hughes demanded. 

“It’s only been a few days since he left. I told you, it’s probably nothing.”

“But if you’re worried, then it’s something.” 

“I just don’t like not knowing,” Mustang said. He swirled the coffee in the cup. 

“Have you called the place he was going yet?”

“Hawkeye did yesterday. They hadn’t seen him. I was giving him until tonight to call before sending anyone after him.” 

“Why wait?” Hughes asked. “If you think something is wrong, then trust your gut. Send someone now. A few hours can make all the difference.” 

Of course it could, if there was actually anything to find. But Hughes didn’t know that, and Mustang couldn’t let him know. 

“You know what, you’re right. I just might send someone now.” No, no he would not. He would follow his plan and wait until tomorrow. _Please don’t let Hawkeye be listening. Please don’t let her be listening._ If she’d been listening, there’d be no way to renegade on the false statement. He’d have to send someone now. 

“Good. And keep me updated, even if it was just nothing,” Hughes said. 

“I will. Was there something you actually needed?”

“Oh, right, almost forgot my whole reason for calling!” Hughes said, some of the humor coming back into his voice. “We just got word from Briggs today.”

“Briggs?” Mustang asked. He hadn’t been expecting to hear anything about them. “What’s going on?”

“They said Drachma has pulled back. They haven’t even seen a scout in days.” 

“Why would Drachma suddenly pull back? We haven’t had any negotiations with them.”

“That’s the puzzle,” Hughes said. “It’s made everyone around here nervous.”

It was making Mustang nervous too. “You think they’re consolidating forces and getting ready for some big attack?”

“Why else would they suddenly pull back?” Hughes retorted. “They haven’t left that fortress alone since it was built.” 

“No. That’s concerning.” Could it have anything to do with Creta? It might be why Creta hadn’t tried anything yet, if they were recruiting Drachma’s help… “Hughes, what’s the likelihood of Creta forming an alliance with Drachma?”

“Higher than I’d like, given the current political situation.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of.” If Drachma allied with Creta, they could go through the western country and attack in tandem with Creta, overwhelming Amestris’s western border. “Thanks for the update.” 

“What are you going to do?” Hughes asked. 

“Find my subordinate first,” Mustang said. “Hopefully I’m wrong, and we’re not about to go to war.” 

“You know, considering the situation, it might almost be kinder to let him stay missing,” Hughes said. 

_This man is far too intelligent for his own good_ , Mustang thought, blood freezing. Mustang would have almost sworn the man knew what he was up to. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to guess, if someone had all the information like he did. 

“Not if he’s missing because someone kidnapped him,” Mustang said. That was a normal answer, right? “And if anyone _has_ kidnapped him, they better hope I’m not the one who finds them.” That definitely sounded like him, right?

Hughes chuckled. “Believe me, I know. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of your gloves.” 

“I’ll call you if there’s any progress,” Mustang said, hanging up before the man could say anything else. Lying to his subordinates was tricky enough, but trying to deceive his best friend was a whole new level of difficult, one he wasn’t sure he could pass. 

At least he knew for sure now that getting Fullmetal out of the picture was the right call. If Drachma really was allying with Creta…Mustang honestly wasn’t sure Amestris had what it took to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter was a little longer at least...   
> I love writing Hughes. He's just so sweet and pure.   
> Leave a comment please! I love seeing what you have to say!


	6. Straight and Steady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war has officially started, so Al gets a cat.

After a month and a half, Ed was going stir-crazy. He had a job at a bookstore, an idea he’d thought was great at the time but quickly realized had its downfalls. For one, their alchemy section was severely limited, and for another he couldn’t even read the books while he was working (though his boss did let him take the books home to borrow). Al had gotten a job as a security guard for the mayor’s house; most people didn’t look twice at him, and the whole idea was he wasn’t supposed to be noticeable. They spent their free time researching, hardly leaving the little apartment. 

They hadn’t bothered with too much furnishing in the time they’d been there. This was only temporary, after all, why waste the money? The things they had made sure to get were real kitchen utensils and one comfortable chair. Al insisted the kitchen chair was fine for him, and in the interest of their poor finances Ed finally agreed. That didn’t stop him from using the kitchen chair and forcing Al to sit in the cushy one from time to time though. 

As far as actual research getting done, they’d hit a wall. They had devoured the books they ‘borrowed’ from East city already, and they had yet to find any new books to look through in this town. It was part of why Ed was so restless. Going over the same notes over and over wasn’t getting them anywhere. They needed to get back out there and find a new library, find a new lead…

But they couldn’t. They had to stay here because of the war, a fact that was getting harder and harder for Ed to deal with. 

They’d been three weeks into hiding when they got the news. Splashed all over every newspaper, whispered in every corner, even their bosses had cautioned them about it. Who could blame them, when over a thousand men were killed in the first attack? Creta and Drachma together had invaded the western border, slaughtering the men and claiming the first fort as their own. 

It had been a heavy loss, almost completely unexpected. Ed and Al, however, shut their doors that night and silently thanked Mustang for getting them the hell out. With such a heavy blow that soon, the state alchemists would be sent in soon. Ed would have been expected to go fight in a war. He would have been expected to kill. 

He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. Mustang knew he couldn’t. That, more than anything else, was the reason for this whole charade. Edward would hesitate before killing someone. The person he was fighting would not. 

The news hadn’t said anything yet about the state alchemists being sent in, but it was only a matter of time. Reinforcements had already joined the western border, and they had managed to hold the fighting back before it hit the towns. People had already been evacuated, just in case. They now flooded Central and the surrounding cities, hoping for sanctuary and a miracle. 

The brothers checked the newspaper every day. They collected them too, sometimes rereading old papers in case there was a valuable clue they’d missed. 

The only interesting thing they’d found was the announcement that famed state alchemist Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist and Hero of the People, was missing. Any relevant information was supposed to be called into Lieutenant Colonel Mustang at Eastern Headquarters. 

That had given them a good laugh. “Should I call myself in?” Ed had joked. 

“I think I found the Fullmetal Alchemist, sir!” Al played along. “Brown hair, right?”

“And his brother is just under six feet, right?” Ed said. 

The two giggled, crunching the paper between them. That had been two weeks ago. They had almost expected people to start looking at them differently the next day, like they had always assumed the two might be military and this only confirmed it. Nothing happened though. Ed’s boss asked how his day was going and Ed replied the same as ever. 

The news that the military was actively looking for him made Ed proud of himself. They hadn’t seen so much as a glimpse of a blue uniform while they were here, which meant they didn’t have a clue where he was. Mustang might have been diverting them, but Ed liked to think there weren’t any leads for him to divert. 

In any case, he was still trapped here while the war raged on, sitting uselessly like a child while people were getting killed. Logic said he was better off here, but part of him kept thinking he could help. He could infiltrate Creta from the inside, maybe, and…and do what? 

He couldn’t do anything but sit here, letting other people fight and die when he knew he could help somehow. He just had to figure out how. More importantly, he had to convince Al to let him. That would be the bigger fight, he felt. 

Speaking of Al, he would be home soon. Ed was usually home first, with Al walking in the door two hours later. It was weird not to be together all day, but they were adjusting to it. Ed just hoped he didn’t rust in the rain. 

The door opened and shut so quickly Ed jumped in his seat. “Geez Nick, are you trying---what’s in your arms?” 

Al hunched over something, his back slightly turned to his brother. 

“Nick?” Their names were also still something Ed was trying to adjust to. He hated them.

“I had to! He was all alone and it’s raining and please can we keep him?” Al turned to show a sopping wet kitten curled up in his arms. 

Ed dragged a hand over his face. “How do you manage to find stray cats _every single time_ it rains? Seriously, how?”

“They call to me. He can stay, right? We aren’t going anywhere for a while. I promise I’ll take care of him!” 

The calico thing already smelled, and Ed could just imagine the furball shedding everywhere. He could also imagine his brother’s pleading human face and the quivering lip as he held back tears. 

“Fine. But he’s your responsibility!” 

“Really? He can stay? You’re the best, brother! Hear that Faust, you can stay!” 

“Faust?” Ed repeated.

“That’s his name.” 

Ed blinked. Sure, why not? Metal brother named Nick and a cat named Faust. It made about as much sense as anything else. 

“Come on Faust, let’s get you dried off.” Al carried the cat into the bathroom.

Ed shook his head. He was going to regret this, he was sure. 

“Oh, here’s today paper, brother,” Al said, stepping back into the room and tossing the rolled up paper at him. There were some wet smudges, but not enough to deter Ed. Al hummed happily from the bathroom, and a soft ‘meow’ lifted through the air every now and then. 

_At least he’s happy,_ Ed thought, a smile spreading across his face while he unrolled the paper. 

The smile didn’t stay over his face. The headline read _Fuhrer King Bradley Reports to Front Lines._ Things had to be bad if the Fuhrer had gone himself. 

Ed continued to read the article. Creta and Drachma had pushed through the border and already breached the first town, taking it for their own. Amestris had attempted to surround them, but so far results weren’t promising. The Fuhrer had gone in an effort to negotiate with them and get them out of their country. 

He folded the paper and pursed his lips. It still wasn’t saying that all state alchemists had been called, and maybe the Fuhrer would be able to end things within the week. Things could potentially go back to normal pretty soon. 

_And to think we only just got the cat_ …Al wouldn’t be able to part with the feline so soon…but maybe if Ed hinted now that it was only temporary? Maybe that would make it easier later. 

He rubbed a hand over his short hair –also still weird- and stood up to deliver the news. Next time, he was reading the paper before promising to keep any pets. 

He faltered when he got to the bathroom. His brother sat on the floor, the damp kitten in his lap. Al murmured to it, gently patting it with a towel. The cat purred, eyes closed in content. It was too late to try and keep either of them from getting attached. 

“Did you need something, brother?” Al asked, pausing with the towel hanging in the air. The purring stopped and hazel eyes glared up at Ed. 

“I…” his eyes cut to the paper folded up on the table, out of view from his brother. “I was just…what do cats eat?” he sighed. 

Al brightened, taking the question as a sign of his brother’s acceptance. He listed off the different things that were safe to feed a cat and some things that were okay in moderation, and then he started listing through what they already had in their cabinets that would work and Ed was left wondering when Al even had the chance to learn all this. 

Ed’s question hadn’t been acceptance of the feline, more like defeat at the new family member. No matter when they went back to their normal lifestyle, this cat would be coming with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I got the name Nick from the Wizard of Oz. That was the Tin Man's birth name. Appropriate for Al, don'tcha think?


	7. Threat of Mutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team's concern is admirable, but it's messing with all of Mustang's well laid plans.

 

If there was an award for being the worst person ever, Mustang was pretty sure he would win. His entire office was practically falling apart from stress and worry, and he’d had to send his men home on more than one occasion so they could try and relax.

 

A fruitless attempt, but he needed to try and do something to ease his guilty conscious. They were all worrying about something that didn’t need even a quarter of the attention they were giving it, but Mustang couldn’t very well tell them that or everything would be ruined.

 

He wasn’t sure if the war would end before he cracked and told them the truth. The tense atmosphere was getting to him, and he didn’t need to be worried about his men when there were so many other things he needed to worry about.

 

Hawkeye strode through the door and dropped a stack of papers on his desk without a word. He sighed and retrieved the form he’d been looking at from underneath the new pile. Of all his subordinates, Hawkeye seemed to be the one having the most difficulty. She didn’t speak unless spoken to, and her answers were clipped. She finished whatever work she had with astonishing speed and then pulled out the investigation file, going over every detail before leaving the office. He’d tried to talk to her once or twice, but she had snapped every time until he got the memo and backed off.

 

She knew he had something to do with their missing subordinate, and she was pissed. Mustang just wasn’t sure if she was angry because he didn’t tell her or because she suspected he had arranged their going missing (which he had, but she would assume in a more gruesome manner).

 

It wasn’t just her, either. Havoc’s smoking had gotten worse, to the point that he was going through a pack a day. Fuery would sit and stare at nothing for an hour, looking like someone had kicked his puppy. Falman tapped his pen incessantly (this particular habit was driving Mustang up the wall) and Breda had taken to stress eating.

 

None of them were on top of their game. Every time Mustang passed through, at least one of them had the investigation open on their desk. A wall of the office had been designated as the ‘clue’ wall, and copies of the most relevant information had ended up on there. Pictured in the center was a portrait of Edward Elric.

 

Mustang refused to look at the wall.

 

He couldn’t do this to them forever. It wasn’t right. They deserved to know that Fullmetal was safe somewhere, even if Mustang didn’t know exactly where. At least it wasn’t dead in a ditch. He was pretty sure, anyway. It was unlikely any harm had befallen the kid. The most was probably a sore tongue from biting back retorts to people calling him short.

 

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. His coffee mug was empty again, but going to refill it meant walking past his subordinates and that damn wall.

 

The phone rang anyway, saving him from the internal debate.

 

“Lt. Col. Mustang,” he said.

 

“You sound as tired as I feel,” Hughes said on the other line.

 

Mustang bit his cheek. He should have gone for the coffee.

 

“What have you got?” Better to keep these interactions brief.

 

“Still no leads on Ed, unfortunately,” Hughes said.

 

Definitely should have gone for coffee.

 

He had handed over the investigation three weeks ago, a full month after Fullmetal had been declared missing. Hughes had requested the case, and when Mustang heard he had gone home early and spent quality time with a whiskey bottle.

 

“He can’t have disappeared into thin air,” Mustang said.

 

“I know, that’s why this doesn’t make sense,” Hughes said. “If anyone had taken Ed, that kid would have left some kind of trail. And if not him, then Al.”

 

Mustang did not like where this conversation was going.

 

“So what’s your theory then?” Mustang asked. He should not have asked. If he let Hughes think about this, the man would figure it out.

 

“Well, since we can’t find either of them, and no one has made any demands or ransom for them, maybe they ran away.”

 

Ran away. Okay. Mustang could work with this. “Why would they run away? They need the military for their research.” _I’m sorry Hughes_.

 

“I don’t know, but how else could they disappear unless they wanted to?”

 

“None of it makes sense,” Mustang said.

 

“I mean, we’re not even finding any clues or any leads, and it’s been over a month,” Hughes went on. “Doesn’t that seem fishy to you?”

 

 _Actually, I’m impressed at how well they covered their tracks_ , Mustang thought. He’d been sure he would have to cover leads up and sabotage the search somehow, but there was nothing for him to sabotage.

 

“We’re just not looking in the right places,” Mustang said.

 

“Yeah, well, unless we’re going to go out and literally check every building in Amestris, we aren’t going to know what those right places are,” Hughes said.

 

Mustang yawned. “Maybe there’s some town we haven’t thought of that they had an interest in.”

 

Hughes was silent for a while, and Mustang thought he heard papers rustle. “Are you sure you’ve told me everything?”

 

His blood froze. “Of course I have.”

 

“You just…don’t seem as concerned as you should be.”

 

“Of course I’m concerned!” Mustang said.

 

“I know you are,” Hughes said. “You’re just…usually you’d be tearing the country apart by now, but you haven’t even left East city.”

 

“I’ve been swamped here. My men have had to do the leg work.”

 

“That normally doesn’t stop you.”

 

“Believe me, I’m doing everything I can,” Mustang said. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll call with any updates,” Hughes said. He hung up first, a testament to how stressed he was.

 

Or a testament to how much he didn’t believe Mustang.

 

It could go either way, really.

 

 _It might be worth it to let Hughes in on the plan_ , Mustang thought. _If only to save my own sanity when he calls._ There would be benefits to telling him. He could do what Mustang had been doing with the investigation, or even declare it a cold case and put it aside, forcing the military to back off. Though it was probably too soon to do that after only two months…

 

But they didn’t have any solid leads, had never found any. There was nothing to keep the case open but stubbornness. Hughes would never close the case though, not until he knew for sure what had happened.

 

He let his head fall to his desk. This was more complicated than flame alchemy. Someone better give him a medal when this was over. Even a nice dinner or something.

 

Until then, coffee. He snatched the mug and walked out the door, entering his subordinates’ office. To his surprise, none of them were sitting at their desks. They were all gathered around the wall; Havoc pinned up a map.

 

“Have you found another lead?” Mustang asked. None of them had left the office all day, so unless some ‘helpful’ citizen had called with information, they shouldn’t have been able to find any leads.

 

“Not exactly,” Havoc said. He picked up a pen from the desk and circled a few spots on the map.

 

Mustang raised a brow and glanced at the rest of his men. No one offered any furthered explanation. “Care to elaborate?”

 

The men glanced at each other. Finally, Hawkeye sighed and stepped forward. “We found no leads tracing Fullmetal’s route to Dacoun, and none of us even remember his return from Grendel,” she said. Her eyes were cold and harsh as she spoke. “I called Grendel to confirm when he left, and they said he never arrived that second time.”

 

 _Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit_ , Mustang thought. “I have his completed report from his inspection at Grendel. Are you telling me that was faked?”

 

“Did he hand that to you himself?” Hawkeye demanded.

 

“Yes, he did.” It was one of the few truths he’d actually been able to tell his subordinates recently.

 

“When?” Havoc asked. “None of us have seen him since he left for Grendel.”

 

Mustang glared at Havoc. “He came into my office about a week later and dropped off the report. I gave him the assignment in Dacoun at the same time.”

 

The men looked around at each other. They didn’t believe him.

 

“Have you offered this idea to Colonel Hughes yet?” Mustang asked.

 

“Well, no,” Havoc said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We only just started thinking about this. Figured you would want to follow up on it.”

 

“Even if your theory were correct, Hughes is the head of the investigation now. We don’t have the authority to follow this potential lead,” Mustang said. He continued through the office to refill his coffee.

 

“That’s never stopped you before,” Hawkeye muttered.

 

He pretended not to hear. _This is turning into one giant mess_. And all because he was trying to keep the kid out of a war. As it was, Mustang was impressed _he_ hadn’t been called to fight yet. Bradley seemed determined not to make this another Ishval though, so he was holding off on that order. That’s what the papers claimed, anyway.

 

Fresh coffee, Mustang returned to his office. He wasn’t that surprised to find his men still around the new map they’d pinned up.

 

“I told you already, we can’t follow this lead,” Mustang said. “Call Hughes if you want.” _And I’ll call him and tell him the truth, so he won’t actually chase this down._

 

Havoc and Hawkeye glanced at each other, frowning. Those two had been his subordinates the longest; it wasn’t surprising that they had figured something was wrong with all of this.

 

He didn’t stay long enough to find out, retreating behind his paperwork. Someone knocked before he even sat down.

 

“Come in,” he groaned.

 

Havoc and Fuery stepped through. Mustang raised a brow. Havoc he’d been expecting, but Fuery was a surprise. The man was fresh from the academy; he didn’t have the nerves to challenge a superior yet.

 

It looked like those nerves were growing though.

 

“What is it?” Mustang asked.

 

Havoc grinned and put an arm around Fuery’s shoulders. “We wanted to request some time off. It’s been forever since either of us had a vacation.”

 

It was hard not to smile. The lie was terrible, and they both knew it. In any other situation, their loyalty to a fellow comrade would be admirable. Right now, however, it was causing Mustang a headache.

 

“We’re swamped, I can’t afford to let either of you go right now,” Mustang said. “Your vacation will just have to wait.”

 

Havoc raised a brow in surprise. “Man, I was really looking forward to it. It’s been so stressful here lately, I needed that time to relax.”

 

Mustang wanted to scream. Havoc thought it was stressful? Really? Try being the only person who actually knows what’s going on and needing to sabotage everyone else’s efforts to fix it.

 

“Please, sir, just a week. I haven’t seen my family since I left for the academy,” Fuery said.

 

These two were hell bent on going. Even if Mustang denied their request, they could go above him and put in an official request from Grumman. The old man would have no reason to deny them.

 

Should he just let them go, and trust Fullmetal to have hidden well enough? Should he tell his team what’s actually going on? Or even just a partial truth, to at least keep them off the trail?

 

Could he trust his team to act concerned enough about Fullmetal that the higher ups wouldn’t get suspicious?

 

Did he have a choice anymore?

 

“Call everyone in here,” Mustang said. “And close the doors.”

 

Their brows shot up to their hairlines, but they did as told. He beckoned them all towards his desk; the softer he could say this, the less likely unwanted ears would overhear.

 

“What I am about to tell you does not leave this room, understand?” he said.

 

A chorus of “Yes sir” answered him.

 

“Fullmetal is not in danger. He wasn’t kidnapped or anything,” Mustang said.

 

Mouths dropped on Falman and Fuery, but Breda, Havoc, and Hawkeye glared at him. He was confirming to them that he’d been lying for two months. Hawkeye’s glare was especially painful.

 

“Do you know where he is, sir?” Fuery asked.

 

“No,” Mustang said. “He’s out following a lead on his research, but he needed to do it as a civilian.” Sort of true. The kid was out researching, and he was doing it as a civilian.

 

“Then why allow him to be declared missing?” Hawkeye asked.

 

 _Shit_. Mustang didn’t have a good cover story for that. Truth it was then. “With this war, he’ll eventually be expected to report, which would tear him from this trail he’s following. He needed time.”

 

“So by declaring him missing, he won’t be expected to report?” Fuery asked.

 

Mustang nodded. “And he’s free to follow this lead as far as he can.”

 

“But you still let the case go to Central,” Hawkeye said.

 

He shrugged. “It had to appear normal. Which means all of you need to keep acting as concerned as you have been. No one can suspect that we know he’s okay, and we also can’t give them actual information on his potential whereabouts.”

 

“Yes sir!” They saluted, and pride uncoiled the tight feeling in his stomach.

 

“You’re dismissed.”

 

They didn’t hesitate before returning to work. He may not have told them the entire truth, that there was no real lead and this whole thing was just to get Fullmetal out of the war, but he’d told them enough that they would stop hindering his plans. Maybe he could finally start drinking water again, instead of living off of coffee.

 

And maybe he’d be announced Fuhrer tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the team knows! But poor Hughes does not. He's still tearing his hair out trying to find the kid. Poor guy. 
> 
> Leave a comment please! I love hearing from you guys, even if it's just saying kudos or something!


	8. Set A Course

_I should have said no to the cat_ , Ed thought. The furball was going to eat them out of the apartment. Or he would pee on the floor so much it would corrode the apartment right out from under them. Ed wasn’t sure which would happen first.

 

Al was trying to train Faust, but it was not going as well as Ed would have liked. And Ed couldn’t even be mad about it because the second he even glared in the cat’s direction Al jumped in to protect him.

 

Anywhere Al went, the cat followed. It was like the two were attached. And the poor feline _pined_ whenever Al left, scratching at the door the whole time until Ed finally let the thing out.

 

Al had not been happy when he came back, Faust perched on his shoulder. Their neighbor across the hall had come to ask them to be quiet during that argument…

 

The other reason for Ed’s temper was a lack of research materials. The two had exhausted what they already had, and Ed felt like they were wasting time by staying put. Al argued that they were safe where they were and didn’t want to leave. (Ed figured he was just worried he’d have to leave the cat behind)

 

(Ed sorely wanted to leave the cat behind)

 

It didn’t help that it seemed like the war was getting worse. It made headlines every day; the body count kept climbing. Whatever the Fuhrer had hoped to accomplish had clearly not been done. Ed didn’t know how he could possibly help, but he felt like he should be doing something, not just sitting here.

 

Al, ever the quiet voice of reason, convinced him to just wait it out.

 

Their lives continued like that for another two weeks. It had been three months total since they left East City, and Creta had just raised the stakes in the war. They’d broken through the Amestris line and attacked a town that hadn’t been evacuated. The deaths in the paper that day were the first civilian deaths of the whole war.

 

It was also the same day the military walked through the streets. It was only two people, and the brothers weren’t entirely sure if they were here looking for them, but they weren’t about to take chances. They packed up and caught the first train going anywhere.

 

Al carried Faust the whole time.

 

Ed read the most recent paper on the train. Survivors of the attacked town had been interviewed, and their accounts filled up most of the pages.

 

_“They came like a demon, attacking in the middle of the night. They blew up half the town before we even knew what was happening.”_

_“There were red flashes everywhere, and people were screaming…it was total chaos.”_

_“I would have thought they had alchemists with them…their efficiency at trying to kill us was just too good.”_

_“I never even saw anybody, just red flashes, gunfire or something I guess. Whenever there was a flash, people screamed. That’s all I know.”_

There were more accounts like this one, and Ed probably would have discarded the whole thing if not for the comment someone made thinking it was alchemists. Ed had seen red flashes with his own alchemy in the past, so it would make sense if the two were paired together.

 

“Hey, uh Nick, check this out,” Ed said, handing the paper to him.

 

It didn’t take him long to skim it. “You don’t think…”

 

“One way to find out.” Ed grinned.

 

“But isn’t it a bad idea to go right into the war zone? Mus-um, uh, your boss wanted us out.”

 

“I’m not going in to fight,” Ed said. “And I think a warzone is the last place anyone is going to think to look for me. Besides, no one will recognize us.”

 

“I don’t know, brother.”

 

“Come on Nick, this is the first lead we’ve had in months. We’ve gotta check it out. What if it turns out to be the real deal?”

 

“Well when you put it that way…” Al didn’t sound convinced, but he agreed to go along with it anyways. His hand stroked Faust nervously, not that the cat was complaining.

 

Unfortunately, that plan wasn’t as easily carried out. A train ticket across Amestris was twice as much money as what Ed had on him, and he had no way to quickly earn more.

 

A watch glinted in his mind. _Mustang is going to murder me for doing this, but I don’t have any other choice right now. We’ve got to follow this lead while it’s fresh._

 

Ed dug the watch out of the bottom of his suitcase.

 

“Uh, Zach, what are you doing?” Al asked.

 

“Got to give the military something to chase, right?” Ed grinned. He’d go take out a stack of cash first, and then he’d buy a ticket with the watch in the opposite direction of where they were going. That would send them in circles.

 

Xx

 

Mustang couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this furious. He had _told_ Fullmetal he wouldn’t be able to use the watch. The kid had known going into this that wasn’t an option. Now, the little runt had not only alerted every military officer looking for him where he was but also where he was going.

 

Worst of all, he had gotten Hughes’ hopes up that they’d find him soon. The man was blabbering to him now on the phone while Mustang physically resisted reaching for his gloves.

 

“I mean what a stroke of luck!” Hughes said. “There had been talk of closing the case since we haven’t found any clues, but now we have a general idea of where he is!”

 

_Don’t incinerate your paperwork, it won’t solve anything. You’ll just make Hawkeye mad._

 

“I sent the closest guy to the bank to interview the lady, and Roy you won’t believe what she said! She said the kid who came in with the watch couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and he definitely wasn’t taller than five feet! He didn’t have the long gold braid or the red coat though, so she didn’t think to stall him, but— _”_

“What do you mean he didn’t have the gold braid?” Mustang asked.

 

“You know, his hair? The woman said the kid who came in had short brown hair, but his eyes were gold.”

 

 _It’s not hard to cut your hair and dye it, especially with alchemy_ , Mustang thought. He was a little surprised Ed had parted with his long locks, but he commended the boy. That had probably kept tons of suspicion off him in the last few months.

 

“Did she say anything about Al?” Mustang asked. He drummed his fingers on his desk.

 

“No, but Ed could be looking for his brother. It might be why he hasn’t bothered to check in; Al comes before everything. And if he’s gone to such lengths to disguise himself, maybe he’s in trouble. Maybe he’s running from someone.”

 

 _If he were, I’d be doubly pissed for him not telling me. He should know that I would help_.

 

“He would still have time to call and check in,” Mustang said.

 

“At least we know he’s alive,” Hughes said.

 

“And we know he’s able to take care of himself,” Mustang said. His eyes glanced down at the most recent newspaper. War dominated the first page, of course. Things were only getting worse. “Look, Hughes, between us, maybe letting him stay gone is for the best.”

 

“What?”

 

“You said it yourself a few months ago. With this war…maybe it’d be kinder to let him stay gone.”

 

There was no answer for a few moments. Mustang held his breath. This was the only way to get Hughes off the case without straight up telling the man Mustang had ordered the kid to hide.

 

“I still need to know he’s okay, Roy,” Hughes said. “But…maybe I can stall the search long enough for this war to end.” _Maybe I can covertly look for him, off the books._

 

“Hughes, don’t beat yourself up over this,” Mustang said. “Fullmetal is smart. He hasn’t survived this long on his own by luck. He knows what he’s doing.”

 

But why the kid used the damn watch was still beyond him. Surely the kid would be reading the papers; He would know the military would jump at the first usage of that timepiece. If he really needed money, he could have used his alchemy to do some quick jobs. So why make a giant withdrawal? And why turn around buy a train ticket with the watch after he had just pulled out so much money?

 

“I know, I know. But I can’t help worrying,” Hughes said.

 

Fullmetal would know his cover was compromised when he made the withdrawal…so why buy the ticket with the watch? Why announce where he was going, especially if he didn’t need to? He had the cash already.

 

The answer was so obvious Mustang almost groaned. Wherever the ticket went to, Fullmetal was surely heading in the opposite direction. People must have been getting too close, so he’d deliberately used the watch to lay a false trail.

 

 _Alright, if that’s what you were doing maybe I don’t have to incinerate you when I see you again_ , Mustang allowed. It was actually kind of genius. By the time investigators realized it was a dead end, Fullmetal would have changed his disguise and gone underground again.

 

“He’ll be alright,” Mustang said. “Don’t you have work to do?”

 

“Like you’re one to talk.”

 

Mustang rolled his eyes and hung up. Not five minutes later, someone knocked on his door. “Come in.”

 

The officer who entered wasn’t one of his subordinates, but Mustang had seen him around the base before. Part of Fuery’s class, if Mustang remembered right.

 

“This just came in from Central, sir,” the officer said, holding an envelope addressed to Mustang. It was sealed with Bradley’s special seal.

 

 _This can’t be good._ He accepted the envelope and sent the officer off. Mustang had only received an envelope like this four times throughout his military career. Three of those times had been to officially recognize a promotion. The first time had been to call him to service in Ishval as a state alchemist.

 

Somehow he doubted he’d been promoted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that the plot came back! Ed and Al are off doing what they do best and Mustang is doing his best not to kill everyone.


	9. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers check out that attack, trying to decipher whether or not it was alchemy based. You won't believe what happens next.

 

The town Melcher was a little closer to the war front than the Elrics had anticipated. As in, the tents and temporary command posts could be seen from the town.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Al asked. Faust rode on his shoulder, tail twitching against his back.

 

“We’ll be fine,” Ed insisted. “A few interviews and we’re gone. Now, who to start with…”

 

Al sighed. What people were still around were all busy with clean up, and they eyed the brothers warily. No doubt any strangers would set them on edge after what happened.

 

Ed walked up to an elderly shop keeper. “Hey, excuse me, can I ask you about the attack?”

 

The man paused in his sweeping and eyed him. “What for?”

 

“We heard alchemy might have been involved, and we’re trying to figure out if that’s true or not,” Ed said. “Did you see anything?”

 

“Alchemy huh? No, I didn’t see anything. I was asleep when it happened. One of the explosions shook me out of bed.”

 

Ed frowned. “What were they trying to do? Why blow up half the town?”

 

The man continued his sweeping. “Hell if I know. Maybe it was just to scare our troops or something.”

 

“That’s pretty harsh,” Ed muttered. He glanced down the road; the buildings looked a little worse for wear around him, shattered glass littering the street and cracks spreading across the fronts, but the buildings on the other end of the road were completely obliterated. “You really didn’t see anything? None of the attackers, nothing?”

 

He shook his head. “Sorry. I hunkered down and stayed out of sight.”

 

Sighing, Ed rubbed his forehead. “Do you know anyone who saw anything?”

 

The man stopped sweeping again and put a hand to his chin. “Well, Gina is up pretty late most nights…she’s about two blocks over, the Old Inn. You can try her, but she’s pretty busy of late.”

 

“The Old Inn, got it. Thanks!” Ed ran off, Al and Faust dutifully following behind.

 

They soon found out the shopkeeper hadn’t been kidding when he said Gina was busy. Survivors had flocked to her inn and filled the lobby, and the woman in question was running around with extra blankets and food, trying to handle customer complaints at the same time. Other people ran around with first aid, and Ed noticed a few military doctors milling around. None he recognized, thankfully, but he made a note to be careful all the same.

 

“Uh, Gina, can I ask you a few questions?” Ed asked.

 

Gina had brown hair shot through with gray pulled in a bun and a red dress, the sleeves rolled up. She glared at him, handing a stack of blankets to a doctor. “I don’t have time for questions.” She hustled back to the front desk where a line of customers waited. Ed followed her.

 

“I know you’re busy,” Ed said, “but this is really important. It’s about the attack.”

 

Gina turned to him, hands on her hips. “If you’re some lousy reporter, then I definitely don’t have time.” She turned away before he could respond.

 

He chased after her. “I’m not a reporter, I’m an alchemist, and I heard the attackers might have been too. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

 

“I have no idea if they were alchemists or not,” Gina said. “Now unless you want to make yourself useful, scram.” She turned to the people in line.

 

“But you might have seen something that could help. Please, just—”

 

Gina turned around, hands returning to her hips. “Kid, I have a hotel full of people and not nearly enough room to put everyone, and on top of that people are hungry because of the current food shortage. I do not have time to deal with you.”

 

“What if I could help?” Ed asked, grabbing her arm as she tried to turn away again. “I said I’m an alchemist…I could rebuild some of the destroyed buildings, then people would have a place to go.”

 

“Brother,” Al warned. While normally Al wouldn’t have a problem with this, they were awfully close to the military looking for them to be doing flashy alchemy like that. Word would spread faster than they could handle.

 

“Can you really do that?” Gina asked.

 

Ed nodded. “I’ll go do it right now,” he said, striding back out the doors.

 

Al ran after him, cradling Faust. “Brother!”

 

Ed didn’t stop until he was in front of some rubble.

 

“Zack, this is a really bad idea,” Al said. “Someone will see! And there’re already military people all over the place.”

 

“Would you relax?” Ed asked. Most of his mind was preoccupied with examining the debris he had to work with, envisioning floor plans and different structures. “I’m telling you we’ll be fine. They won’t expect us to be this close.”

 

Al glanced around nervously at the people spread out in the streets. One man in particular was watching him, but he wasn’t military. He was just…watching. Probably just wondering what a kid was doing staring at the rubble.

 

“Alright, stand back,” Ed said, clapping his hands.

 

Al shook his head, but he stepped back. _Why can’t he listen, for once?_

 

It didn’t take long for everyone in the street to stop what they were doing and watch the building grow itself out of the ground. Splintered wood pieced together, nails molded into place.

 

Five minutes later, Ed stepped away from a new hotel. Sweat dripped down the side of his face, but he grinned at his audience. “Who needs a room?”

 

“Don’t overdo it,” Al muttered.

 

The people swarmed him, and he led them inside.

 

Al cradled Faust, watching the people go in. The man Al had noticed before was among the first to follow Ed in. He didn’t know what, but something about that man made him uneasy.

 

Inside, Ed was making minor changes to the interior. Some doorways weren’t large enough, some were in weird places. Some of the extra debris became actual doors. People were already trying to claim rooms for their own and asking Ed’s permission.

 

“I don’t run the place. That’s the hotel manager down the street. I’m just the construction worker,” was his reply.

 

A few people made suggestions to better the layout, which Ed usually agreed to. By the time he reached the top floor, most of his entourage had split off to explore on their own.

 

There wasn’t any running water in the building, and the wiring was all wrong, but it was a roof over people’s heads.

 

“This is impressive,” a man said, looking out the window. “You did all this with alchemy?” He had an accent Ed didn’t recognize.

 

“Yep! I’ve been studying it for years,” Ed said.

 

“Do you have some kind of enhancer?” The man glanced back. Dark hair curled around his ears, and his olive skin seemed waxy in the dim light.

 

“Nope. This is all me!” A bell rang in the back of Ed’s mind, a warning that he should shut up and get the hell out. It was a feeling he was all too used to, thanks to the missions Mustang liked to send him on.

 

The man glanced at the window ledge again and ran his fingers over the wall. “Fascinating, truly fascinating.”

 

“Well, my brother’s waiting for me. Enjoy the building!” Ed scampered off before there was a reply, joining his brother on the street.

 

“You overdid it again,” Al stated.

 

“I know,” Ed said. “But we need that woman to talk to us.” He marched back to the hotel and announced the secondary hotel that was now open to business.

 

It took a while to get everything squared away, but when he did, Gina was watching him carefully. “That was some impressive alchemy,” she said.

 

Ed grinned. “Thanks. Did it improve your memory of the attack at all?”

 

She crossed her arms. “I did see something similar to the lightshow it caused, but the attack was all red. Is that what you want to hear?”

 

Both brothers frowned. Ed put a hand to his chin. “Red alchemical reaction, huh?”

 

“It could be a clue,” Al said. “Red fits with all the legends.”

 

“Yeah, it does,” Ed said. He turned back to Gina. “Do you remember anything else?”

 

She shook her head. “Nothing important. The attack was fast. Military didn’t even see it coming.”

 

“Then it definitely had to be alchemy,” Ed said. “A physical attack would have required too many people and too much equipment…military would have spotted it.”

 

“But if it was only a few alchemists,” Al started, “they would have been in and out without being seen.”

 

“But we still don’t know _why_ ,” Ed said.

 

Someone called for Gina, complaining that there was no hot water. She sighed but excused herself, an act that was hardly noticed by the brothers.

 

“Even if they do have a stone, what would we do about it?” Al asked. Faust jumped from his arms to his shoulder, rubbing himself against the side of Al’s head.

 

“We’ll track them down and borrow it,” Ed stated.

 

“And how do you plan to find them?”

 

“I don’t know yet,” Ed said. “We could probably sneak behind enemy lines if we needed to.”

 

“Brother, no! That’s too dangerous!”

 

A man walked up to them, the same one that had been so keen on Ed’s alchemy earlier. “Um, excuse me.”

 

“Huh? Oh, hey.”

 

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you,” he started. “But I was wondering if you could help me with something. Your alchemy would be perfect in fixing up my old warehouse.”

 

Ed glanced at Al. “I don’t know…”

 

“Please, I beg you!” the man said. “I’m useless without that warehouse! I have no way to provide for my family!” His eyes flicked to the cat on Al’s shoulder. “Or any of our cats!”

 

Ed knew it was all over right there.

 

“Brother, we have to help!” Al said.

 

He dragged a hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah. Alright, we’ll help. Lead the way.”

 

“Oh, thank you so much!” The man walked back out of the hotel, the brothers close behind. “My name is Jeriah, by the way.”

 

“I’m Zach, and this is my brother Nick,” Ed said.

 

Jeriah walked quickly through the town, praising Ed’s abilities and how this was going to save his family. The more he spoke though the more Ed wanted to transmute a gag over his mouth, or at least a pair of earplugs for himself.

 

The warehouse Jeriah led them to was on the far side of town, in a mostly abandoned district. Many of the surrounding buildings had been destroyed, but the warehouse seemed to be intact for the most part.

 

“It looks perfectly fine to me,” Ed said.

 

“I know, but the inside is in shambles. Just follow me,” Jeriah said. He held the door open for the two of them, letting them step inside first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed the calm build-up! Everything is hitting the fan in the next chapter!


	10. Stormy Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang deals with the latest threat to the Amestrian army and finds his long-lost subordinate all at the same time.

War was exactly the way Mustang remembered it. But in a lot of ways, it was different too.

 

He wasn’t sent into residential villages with orders to blow up anything that moved. He wasn’t really _sent_ anywhere, actually. He was the leader of a whole unit, and he was the one doing the sending. Even then, both the Amestrians and the Cretans had trenches facing off against each other. Men peered over the edges, rifles aimed at the other side. At the first sight of an enemy, guns went off.

 

They attacked, people died. At almost all hours of the day gunshots could be heard somewhere. In that respect, it was just like Ishval.

 

“Sir, the scouts are back,” Hawkeye said, stepping into his command tent.

 

The tent wasn’t comfortable by any means; his desk and chair were made of extra boxes of ammunition, a map of the area spread out on top of them. He was hunched over most of the time, the stacks too short for him and growing shorter by the day. He’d end up working on the floor by the end of the week if their supplies didn’t come in soon.

 

“Send them in,” Mustang said. A five o’clock shadow had grown over his jawline in the week he’d been here, and his hair refused to lay flat even more than usual.

 

Two men slipped in, still decked out in their white cloaks, hoods drawn over their heads. Both men were tall and skinny, almost wiry, making them agile enough for scouting.

 

“What did you find?” Mustang asked.

 

“They’re starting to expand their trenches,” one said, stepping over to the map. A line had been drawn less than a mile away from their current position. He tapped one end of that line. “They were heading northeast, so we think they want to try and wrap around us.”

 

Mustang picked up a pencil and marked it on the map. “Good. It should be easy enough to stop them. What about their supplies? Did you see where they were keeping them?”

 

“We’re not positive,” the other man said, “but there was a group of men around a tent back here.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “It’s out of range of our snipers.”

 

Marking the location down, Mustang nodded. “Suspicious enough to be a target,” he said. It would either be their supplies or a command tent, but either way it would be a loss for the other side. “Anything else?”

 

The men shook their heads.

 

“Alright. Good work. Get some grub and then hit your racks,” Mustang said.

 

Both men saluted and went on their way. They were quickly replaced with Hawkeye and Havoc.

 

It had been a stroke of luck that Mustang was able to ask his team to join him on the front. When Bradley ordered him to report, it wasn’t as a state alchemist but as the Hero of Ishval. They ‘formally requested his expertise on the battlefield’ as the letter put it. But they also said he was free to bring some of his commanding officers along.

 

He had asked all of them, but he had also said they were free to refuse if they wanted. He wouldn’t blame them for not wanting to come. Only Falman had stayed behind, but that worked for the better. His age would be a hindrance out here, and this way Mustang had someone he trusted keeping an eye on things at Eastern HQ.

 

Havoc and Hawkeye studied the map and the new markings.

 

“They have to know we’d catch on to them trying to surround us,” Havoc said.

 

Mustang frowned. “Then what would be the point? Do they think they could finish despite us knowing?”

 

“It could just be a distraction,” Hawkeye suggested.

 

“Even if it is, we still need to stop them. Havoc, I want you to lead a covert team to place some mines along their path.”

 

“Yes sir,” Havoc saluted. He turned to leave and put together the team, but chaos erupted before he took a single step.

 

It was hard to tell if the shouting or the earthquake started first. Mustang and the others nearly fell over from the force of it. Soldiers outside weren’t so lucky.

 

The shaking ended quickly, but gunshots followed.

 

“The hell is going on?” Mustang asked, storming out of the tent with Hawkeye and Havoc hot on his heels.

 

The ground outside was cracked and uneven. Soldiers rushed pas Mustang, rifles slung over their back. He grabbed one by the arm.

 

“What’s the situation?” Mustang demanded.

 

“There’s some alchemist out there! He’s tearing up our trenches!”

 

Mustang’s eyes narrowed and he let the soldier go. Creta had alchemists now? That was not good news. War itself was bad enough, but a war between alchemists had the potential to destroy both countries.

 

He pulled on his gloves and rushed after the soldier. This ended now. Cretan alchemists would be nothing but a passing dream.

           

The soldiers had already set up a perimeter and were firing back. A large wall had been hastily transmuted halfway between the two trenches. For how quickly it must have gone up, the wall looked surprisingly sturdy. The dozens of bullets that had hit it hadn’t yet cracked the surface.

           

Mustang smirked and raised his hand. It was too easy. “Stand back!” he shouted, warning those closest.

 

Soldiers dove to the ground and Mustang snapped his fingers. He aimed for the base of the wall, where the transmutation was weakest.

 

The wall shattered, sending bits of rock flying in every direction. The man hiding behind it darted out, trailing his hand along the ground. Earth shot out towards them; Mustang snapped again, flinging both hands out to either side. The projectiles were stopped by an oncoming wall of fire.

           

By the time the flames and earth fell away, the alchemist had vanished again. He wasn’t gone though. Another earthquake had started, but this time Mustang could see the alchemical reactions causing it.

 

 _Does his alchemy work like Armstrong’s?_ Mustang thought, crouching low on the ground to keep his balance. _So far he’s only used earth in his attacks, but he’s definitely more subtle than Armstrong_.

 

“He’s at ten o’clock, sir!” Hawkeye said, doing her best to aim a rifle.

 

Mustang whipped his gaze in the specified direction and spotted their target. He kneeled out in the open, hands pressed to the ground and alchemy surging forth, tearing up the ground. Soldiers could barely keep their feet, and even Hawkeye didn’t risk shooting in these conditions. It was too easy for the uneven ground to make her shot go wild and hit one of their own.

 

His flames, though, had a little more control once they were fired. He snapped.

 

The earthquake stopped immediately and the alchemist dove to the side, rolling under the attack. Mustang ran forward to get a better shot, Hawkeye on his heels. The closer he got to the man the more familiar he seemed. All he could make out from his current position was short brown hair and a round face, but something about the guy just screamed familiarity.

 

Then the guy clapped and pulled a spear out of the ground, and Mustang stopped dead.

 

 _“You know, his hair? The woman said the kid who came in had short brown hair, but his eyes were gold._ ”

 

“Fullmetal?” Mustang whispered. But that didn’t make sense. The kid shouldn’t be anywhere near here, let alone attacking for the enemy!

 

“Sir?” Hawkeye asked. Her voice was several octaves higher than normal.

 

“Hold your fire,” Mustang said.

 

The alchemist stopped at that, eyeing the soldiers suspiciously.

 

“That can’t be Fullmetal,” Hawkeye said.

 

Mustang was inclined to agree. It made no sense for Fullmetal to be here. The kid was supposed to be in hiding as far away as possible, not fighting a war. And he definitely was not supposed to be fighting for the other side.

 

It didn’t make sense.

 

But if there was the slightest chance that this alchemist was actually his subordinate, then Mustang couldn’t let him be killed.

 

“I said hold your fire,” Mustang repeated, louder this time for the rest of the soldiers around him.

 

His orders were not met with shouts of approval.

 

He couldn’t care less.

 

Eyes trained on the kid, Mustang pushed past the other men. The kid stood a mere thirty feet away, spear raised.

 

“Let’s keep this between us, huh?” Mustang said, examining the boy as he stepped closer.

 

Gold eyes narrowed. Short hair really did make the kid’s face look different, and the missing red coat made him look older. But Mustang had seen that spear before, and he’d seen the intense focus in those eyes. No doubt about it, that was his subordinate over there.

 

And that made him furious.

 

“Want to tell me why you’re doing this?” Mustang growled. His whole body trembled with rage.

 

“Orders,” the boy replied, changing his grip on the spear and throwing it at Mustang.

 

Dodging the spear was easy, and Mustang suspected Fullmetal hadn’t expected the weapon to do any damage. Mustang was far more concerned with the answer to his question in any case.

 

“Orders?” he repeated. “Whose orders? They sure as hell weren’t mine!”

 

That seemed to give Fullmetal pause. “Of course they weren’t.”

 

Mustang blinked. “What?”

 

“I’m a Cretan soldier. Why would my orders have come from you?” he asked. He launched into another attack, coming in close with a flurry of kicks and punches.

 

 _Excuse me?_ Mustang thought to himself. Fullmetal was not a Cretan soldier. Unless…had Mustang been wrong? Was this brat not his missing subordinate?

 

Up close, Mustang could get a better idea of the size of his opponent. The midget barely came up to his chest, further solidifying the kid’s identity.

 

_This is definitely him…but why does he think he’s a Cretan soldier? And why does it seem like he doesn’t even recognize me?_

 

Mustang blocked a punch and retaliated with his own. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

 

“The bastard in charge of this camp,” Fullmetal replied with the same indifferent and level gaze he’d had the whole fight. He caught the punch with his left hand. His right hand quickly shot out, wrapping around Mustang’s bicep. Then he turned on his heel and flipped Mustang over his shoulder.

 

Mustang was breathless for more than one reason.

 

“Lieutenant Colonel!” Hawkeye yelled.

 

He wasn’t sure if he actually heard a gun click or if he made it up in his head, but he panicked all the same. “Stand down!” he yelled, rolling onto his stomach.

 

Hawkeye glanced over her scope between Mustang and Fullmetal. Hers wasn’t the only gun pointed at the kid either.

 

Fullmetal eyed the muzzles warily and then looked down at Mustang.

 

“Unless you want to be killed, you’ll run,” Hawkeye stated.

 

Fullmetal turned his gaze to her and nodded before sprinting back towards the Cretan line.

 

“Fullmetal!” Mustang yelled.

 

He wasn’t even spared a backwards glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo It took forever to get here but we made it! Mustang has to fight his very own subordinate!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment please!


	11. Lost at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is very confused.

Silence was not a sound Zach was used to. Everything he could remember was loud and filled with noise, even the peaceful moments of his life. But as he ran across no-man’s-land back to Creta’s trenches, it was silent.

 

The dirt absorbed his footsteps. His breaths puffed into nothing. There were no gunshots, no shouting, nothing.

 

Even when he hopped down into the trench, no one said anything. The soldiers glared at him and made a path. Zach didn’t have to ask where it led.

 

He strode past everyone, making his way through the trench to his commanding officer’s tent.

 

Jeriah watched as he slipped through the flap. His hands were clasped in front of his face, elbows resting on a rickety folding table. Dark eyes glared over his fingers.

 

“Why is their camp still standing?” Jeriah asked.

 

“They had their own alchemist,” Zach replied. “I got caught fighting him, and they got a bunch of guns trained on me.”

 

“So you ran like a coward?”

 

“They told me to run or they’d kill me.” Zach crossed his arms and leveled his own glare at Jeriah. “I chose a strategic retreat.”

 

Jeriah lowered his hands, brows knotted. “They let you go?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Don’t know,” Zach shrugged. It wasn’t entirely true. He had a vague idea, based on the other alchemist’s actions. The Amestrian had acted like he knew Zach, and if he actually had it would explain why he didn’t want Zach to be killed.

 

The problem was Zach had never met that man before. He would have never had the chance. He had grown up in Creta, and this war was his first time out of the country.

 

A thought nagged at the back of his head, like someone knocking on a door. It was a familiar feeling lately, this idea that was just on the other side of a wall, begging to be acknowledged. He couldn’t for the life of him figure it out though.

 

“Really? You have no clue why the Amestrians would just let you go, even though you’ve destroyed two other camps?” Jeriah asked.

 

Zach shrugged again. “None.” He didn’t know why he didn’t want to tell Jeriah about the way the other alchemist acted. It shouldn’t have made a difference to him, but he kept his mouth shut.

 

Jeriah frowned. “That’s concerning. Go get some rest. You’ll attack again at sunset.”

 

“Won’t they be expecting me to try again?”

 

“Not this soon. Besides, I trust you did enough damage that they’ll still be in disarray.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good, then you’re dismissed.” Jeriah waved a hand and looked back at the hand drawn map before him.

 

Zach slipped back out and hurried to his rack. Unlike most soldiers, he had his own quarters. His rank and accomplishments granted him the privilege, but the other men made sure to show their disdain for the whole idea. Zach hadn’t seen one friendly face since he’d gotten here. Not that it bothered him much; he didn’t care what the soldiers thought of him. He was here to do a job, not make friends.

 

His tent had no decorations. It consisted of a cot and duffel bag full of clothes identical to what he wore now. There was nothing remotely personal in the area, no photos of family, no books to read when he was bored, nothing to prove he existed outside of this army.

 

He stretched out on the cot, left hand behind his head. Within a few seconds, his fingers tapped his stomach restlessly. His foot started to bounce.

 

He was not tired enough to lie in this cot. But he’d been ordered to rest, so he couldn’t just get up and explore the camp.

 

 _Since when did I follow orders?_ he thought to himself, swinging his feet over to the floor.

 

His hands froze gripping the edge of the cot. A headache pulsed at the back of his head. _When have I ever disobeyed an order?_

 

The pulsing turned to pounding. This had been happening a lot since his accident last week. It had been so bad he didn’t even remember it, and Jeriah had had to fill him in. An ambush on an enemy camp had gone bad, and he’d been hit pretty hard in the head. Zach had been lucky Jeriah watched that attack and managed to bail him out. He’d had a headache off and on ever since, and weird impulses to go against orders. Jeriah said it was just remnants of a fading concussion.

 

Zach had never heard of a concussion giving someone random impulses, but he had no reason to distrust Jeriah. Jeriah had taken him off the streets and given him a purpose, and he’d taught Zach all he knew about alchemy. Zach owed everything to that man.

 

He took a deep breath and lay back down. He needed to relax. The headache would pass; he just needed to stop thinking for a while. Besides, he’d been ordered to rest before another attack. Maybe he should actually listen. He would need all his strength if he was going to face that flame alchemist again.

 

He frowned. That man…he had seemed convinced Zach should know him. But why?

 

“We’ve never met,” Zach muttered. He searched through his memories, as scattered as they were. It didn’t help his headache, but he needed answers.

 

Dark hair, blue Amestrian military uniform…it rang a bell. He knew it did. He could picture that bastard’s smug face so clearly, sitting at a desk.

 

The pain in his head reached new levels.

 

“Shit!” he said, grabbing both sides of his head. He curled up on his side, gritting his teeth.

 

 _Forget about that bastard,_ he thought. _It’s not worth it. I don’t know him. I don’t know him. I don’t know him!_

 

He didn’t know how long he stayed curled up like that. The pain took a while to subside. When it did, his whole body ached and he was covered in cold sweat. He stretched out again, sitting up on his cot.

 

That…that had not been because of a concussion.

 

Xx

 

Someone was going to die. Mustang was going to burn them into nothing more than a pile of ashes, and then he was going to burn _that_.

 

“Please stop muttering vivid murders, sir,” Hawkeye sighed behind him. “It’s starting to concern the soldiers.”

 

Ever since Fullmetal had run off, and he’d sat there _uselessly_ watching him go, Mustang had been pacing the camp. He’d been helping repair some of the damage Fullmetal had caused, but every transmutation scribbled in the dirt only enraged him more. It made him think of why he had to do this in the first place, which made him think of this new turn of events. And every time the loop restarted, he envisioned a new painful way to kill whoever was responsible.

 

If he’d been saying them out loud, he was completely unaware.

 

That probably wasn’t a good sign for his current mental state.

 

“Do you have any idea why Fullmetal would have attacked us?” Mustang asked.

 

“I’m still not convinced it was him,” Hawkeye stated. “He showed no signs of knowing who we were.”

 

Mustang frowned. That had been bothering him too. Even if someone was blackmailing the kid or forcing him to do it somehow, Fullmetal wasn’t a good enough actor to pretend he didn’t know Mustang. And when Mustang had said the kid sure wasn’t following his orders, the kid had looked completely baffled. The look on his face…he genuinely believed he had never met Mustang before.

 

“Did he get amnesia or something?” Mustang muttered. He stopped walking in the middle of the path, hand wrapped around his chin. But even then, what would have possessed him to join the Cretan army? And what general would be crazy enough to let a kid join?

 

He needed more information. His thoughts had been circling like this all day, but he was no closer to an answer now than he had been when the kid first showed up.

 

“Lieutenant, send Havoc to my tent,” Mustang said, abandoning the repairs and returning to his tent.

 

“Sir!” Hawkeye replied, setting off to find the man.

 

Mustang wished he could have had the pleasure of slamming a door closed when he returned to his ‘office.’ The gentle swish of a tent flap just wasn’t as satisfying.

 

Havoc entered a few minutes later, lacking his usual cigarette. “You wanted to see me?”

 

“What did you think of that alchemist earlier?” Mustang asked. He kept his gaze trained on the map in front of him.

 

Havoc crossed his arms. “If you’re asking whether or not I thought it was Fullmetal, then I do. How many other alchemists can clap and do a transmutation?”

 

Mustang nodded. “Then you understand the importance of this next assignment.”

 

Havoc raised a brow.

 

“For whatever reason, Fullmetal has joined with the Cretan army, and he doesn’t even seem to know who we are.”

 

“You want me to find out why?” Havoc asked. The disbelief in the question was evident in his voice.

 

“I’m more interested to know who is giving Fullmetal his orders. They have to be controlling him somehow.”

 

“Is that even possible?” Havoc asked.

 

His fingers coiled into a fist. “I don’t know. That’s what you’re going to find out. Infiltrate their camp and find out whatever you can.”

 

Havoc let out a breath. “Do you want me to wait until dark or…”

 

“Leave as soon as possible. I don’t care how you do it, just get me the information.” It’d be even better if Havoc could drag the man responsible back here, and then Mustang could slam his fist into the man’s face. Repeatedly.

 

And then he’d incinerate what was left.

 

And he’d stomp on the ashes for good measure.

 

“Hehe, I’ll be going then!” Havoc said, running out a little too quickly.

 

Mustang cringed. He must have been muttering out loud again.

 

Hawkeye peeked in at Havoc’s departure. “Sir?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Mustang composed himself. “How’s the state of the camp?”

 

“Everything is being put back in order swiftly. They could use your help in a few places where the ground is still torn up,” she reported.

 

“Right. Let’s go.” He would fix the camp, and then he’d plan a counterattack. He wouldn’t worry about Fullmetal, because there was nothing he could do right now. Havoc would get him the information he needed, and then he’d plan how to save his subordinate. But he couldn’t do anything until Havoc got back, which meant he needed to focus on what he could fix right now.

 

He wouldn’t worry.

 

He would fix the camp.

 

Fullmetal would be saved later.

 

He didn’t need to worry about that right now.

 

Camp first, subordinate later.

 

He wouldn’t worry.

 

He wouldn’t.

 

 _Damn it all._ He would worry like hell.

 

Xx

 

Against all odds, Mustang managed to function throughout the rest of the day. The camp was put back in order, and routines had resumed as usual.

 

Havoc still had yet to return.

 

Mustang tried not to be concerned about that, but his mental willpower over his own thoughts was not up to par today.

 

_What if he was captured? The Cretans would know he’s not one of them immediately. You sent your subordinate to his death._

Havoc was smart. He did undercover operations all the time. This would be a piece of cake for him.

 

_Then why isn’t he back? You sent him out before noon, and the sun’s going down._

He’s just gathering information. He needs time to do that properly and not get caught.

 

“Sir, you haven’t had dinner yet,” Hawkeye stated, breaking his inner argument. She stood in front of him with a tray of grub.

 

Mustang had to wonder when she’d left his side to fetch it. How long had he been out of it?

 

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Mustang said. She put the tray down on his makeshift desk.

 

“I’m sure Havoc is fine,” she added. “These things take time, after all.”

 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. I just—”

 

“ _Colonel Mustang!”_ someone yelled. They sounded far away, and he couldn’t quite make out the voice, but the tone was urgent. “ _Colonel, he’s coming!_ ”

 

Mustang was on his feet so fast he upset his dinner, spilling gray mush all over his map. He ran out of the tent and towards the trenches, where the voice was coming.

 

_“Colonel Mustang!”_

 

No doubt about it, that was Havoc.

 

He met the man halfway from his tent to the trenches. Havoc doubled over, hands on his knees, and tried to catch his breath. He still wore a dark red Cretan uniform, the collar left open.

 

“What’s going on? Who’s coming?”

 

Havoc glanced up. “Fullmetal. He’s about to launch another attack.”


	12. Keep an Eye on the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zach never asked for all this confusion, and he doesn't know who to believe anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter. It's my second favorite, I think. Hope you enjoy!

Zach had actually managed to sleep for a while before Jeriah brought him dinner, and after that he was off towards the Amestrian camp. The sun was mostly down, and the camp was being swallowed by the shadows. Hopefully that meant he was as well, and the Amestrians would have no idea he was coming. He would destroy this camp just like the last one, giving Creta the opening they needed to push through and take another town.

 

Zach expected to find the remains of his attack earlier as he approached. He’d left plenty of torn up earth and chaos, but everything seemed quiet. He didn’t see the walls he created, and the camp was quiet.

 

He slowed down. This wasn’t right. Jeriah had said they’d be busy repairing the damage he’d done. He knew he had left enough of it to keep them busy.

 

Unless…that other alchemist. He must have been able to fix everything. And if they had fixed everything, then that meant their watch was up again.

 

He scanned the camp. A few men stood above the trenches, looking at him.

 

No, not a few men. One man, with his arm up.

 

Zach barely had time to mutter a curse before flames spread around him. He threw his arms over his head. The closest tendrils were several feet away, but the heat pressed against him. He slowly lowered his arms and glared at the fire.

 

That alchemist had had the perfect chance to take him out. Why didn’t he go for it?

 

“So, you came alone again?” the man asked, stepping through the ring he’d created. The flames were already beginning to dim.

 

Zach curled his fingers into a fist. He really didn’t want to play more mind games.

 

“Does your commander really think a child is enough to take down an entire camp?” the alchemist asked.

 

“I have before!” Zach shouted. Why did he feel the need to prove himself to this guy? “And I’ll do it again!”

 

The last of the flames died away, and Zach charged. Clapping, he dragged a hand over the ground and pulled out a spear. The alchemist snapped, and Zach dove to the side, rolling out of the way, and then he ran again.

 

“Don’t make me do this, Fullmetal,” the man said. He snapped, the flames passing Zach’s arm.

 

Zach narrowed his eyes. This man wasn’t trying to hit him. “Who the hell is Fullmetal?” _Why do I feel like it’s me?_ He thrust the spear.

 

The man easily sidestepped, his own gaze narrowing. “Don’t tell me you don’t even recognize your own codename?”

 

 _My own codename?_ “Why would I have a codename? And why would it be Fullmetal?” He kept attacking, but his motions were becoming mechanical. His earlier headache was starting to return and his thoughts split in different directions.

 

“I’d be happy to explain it to you if you call a truce and come with me,” the man said. He matched Zach’s attacks blow for blow, but he never went on the offensive. He only defended himself.

 

Snorting, Zach said, “That has ‘trap’ written all over it.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be worth it if I explain things?” the man asked. He grabbed Zach’s right arm as he punched. “Like how you got this arm and your left leg?”

 

Zach paused. How did this man know about his automail? His headache started to grow.

 

He tore his arm out of the man’s grasp, jumped back, and kicked.

 

The alchemist avoided it easily; Zach was getting sloppy. “How about your family?” the man asked. He paused himself at that. “Actually, where is Alphonse? Does he know what’s happening?”

 

Zach froze, the name Alphonse bouncing around his mind. He knew someone by that name, didn’t he? A little boy…no, a suit of armor? But that didn’t make sense.

 

The men stepped back, watching Zach carefully. He slipped into his ‘commander’ voice, demanding an answer from the boy. “Fullmetal, where’s your brother? What happened to Al?”

 

“I—He’s—I don’t—Who?” Zach grabbed at his head. The headache was back full force.

 

“What’s wrong?” The alchemist stepped forward.

 

Zach threw a wild punch. This…wasn’t good. Not good at all. He needed to get out of here. He couldn’t fight like this, he’d be captured for sure and then Jeriah would get mad. “Stay back!”

 

“Fullmetal I can help! You have to tell me what’s going on!”

 

Why? Zach wondered. The one word screamed in his head, repeating over and over. Why did this man care? Why did he seem so familiar? Why was he trying to help?

 

“Fullmetal.” He stepped forward, reaching a hand out towards Zach.

 

Zach swatted it away. “Stay away from me!”

 

Eyes narrowed, and damn if that pensive look didn’t seem so familiar.

 

“Please, Fullmetal—”

 

“Don’t call me that!” Zach glanced between the man and the camp, and his head kept pounding.

 

The man frowned. “If you’d just listen, we can figure this out.”

 

“No! I don’t know you! I’ve never met you before! Stop trying to get in my head!” Zach finally moved, sprinting off into the darkness. Jeriah was going to be pissed, but Zach couldn’t stay there.

 

“Fullmetal!”

 

The name drove another nail through his head. Pain radiated all through his brain and down his spine. Nausea churned in his stomach.

 

“Fullmetal, come back!”

 

The man wasn’t pursuing him; good, Zach definitely couldn’t fend off an attack right now. It was taking all his concentration just to put one foot in front of the other and keep running. He wasn’t even confident he’d be able to climb to his feet if he tripped.

 

Why was this man so troublesome? Why could he get under Zach’s skin like this?

 

And why did Zach get the feeling the man did know him, that this man was telling the truth?

 

 _That’s impossible_ , he told himself. _You’ve lived in Creta all your life. You’ve never met him before. Everything he says is a lie_.

 

Black creeped on the edges of his vision, and it wasn’t just because the sun was almost down.

 

He was lucky he made it back to the trenches. Whether Jeriah was mad at him for retreating or thankful Zach made it back in one piece, Zach didn’t know. As soon as he was safe behind their lines, he blacked out.  

 

He woke in the middle of the infirmary. The med tent wasn’t that busy, but a dull hum of conversation drifted through the air.

 

Sitting up, he lifted his metal hand to his head. The cool iron felt good against the remnants of his headache.

 

 _“Like how you got this arm and your left leg?_ ”

 

Zach lowered his hand and stared at it. Had that man been telling the truth? Did he really know? How could he possibly know how Zach had lost his real limbs?

 

He furrowed his brow. How did he lose his limbs? A train wreck? A horrible mugging? War?

 

Why couldn’t he remember? He had to know…it had been a huge deal, he remembered that.

 

Maybe Jeriah would know.

 

Oh man, _Jeriah_. He was probably pissed at Zach right now. He had every right…Zach had epically failed earlier. It was that damn alchemist. Zach could have moved on by now if not for that damn man.

 

“Oh, you’re awake,” someone said.

 

Zach glanced up. An older man stood at the foot of his bed with an armful of bandages.

 

“Hang on, I’ll get someone over.” The man walked off, calling “Hey Steve, check over the kid will you?”

 

“One sec!” another voice answered. Zach looked towards his right, where it had come from. All the cots of the infirmary were pushed up against one side with only a foot or two of space between them. Most were occupied, mainly with sleeping patients. A few patients sat up like him, and all of them were talking with doctors.

 

The doctor that had spoken to Zach had already walked off, dropping the bandages on another man’s bed and shaking the patient’s shoulder.

 

“Well, let’s see how you are,” Steve said, standing next to Zach. He was younger than the first doctor, with dark brown hair and olive skin. He pushed a hand against Zach’s forehead. “Your fever’s gone, at least.”

 

“I had a fever?” Zach asked.

 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, that was the only thing we could really find wrong with you. We don’t really know why you collapsed. But even then, your fever wasn’t that bad.”

 

Zach lifted his hand to his head again. “How long was I out?”

 

“Most of the night. It’s about six in the morning now. Seems like you just needed sleep.”

 

Only one night? That wasn’t so bad, Zach thought. And he did feel well-rested now, despite the headache. “Maybe.”

 

“So, how are you feeling overall? Any pain anywhere?”

 

“Just a headache,” Zach answered. “But it’s not that bad.”

 

Steve nodded again. “We didn’t find any bumps on you last night, so that’s probably just a residue of passing out.”

 

“Yeah, probably.”

 

Steve asked him a few more questions to determine how bad the headache was, and it was ultimately decided they would let the headache run its course. “If it gets worse though come back for some medication,” Steve finished.

 

Zach agreed, and then he was on his way to meet with Jeriah. He stopped only long enough to get some breakfast, and then he strode into Jeriah’s tent.

 

The man sat with a cup of coffee, looking over a written report. “Ah, Zachary, you’re awake. I was going to come by in a few minutes. I trust you’re alright?”

 

“Yeah, other than a headache I’m fine.”

 

Jeriah’s fingers clutched the paper a little tighter. “Then why the hell did you retreat last night? You didn’t do any damage at all!”

 

“I couldn’t get past that flame alchemist,” Zach said.

 

Jeriah laid the papers on his desk and growled “Roy Mustang.”

 

“Mustang?” Zach repeated. That annoying bell went off in his head again; the name paired up with a picture of the alchemist’s face perfectly.

 

“That man is a demon. I was hoping you’d have been able to take him out by now.”

 

“I’ve tried.”

 

“Try harder!” Jeriah snapped. “The next time you attack had better be the last. I’m tired of all this failure!”

 

“It will be.”

 

“See to it that it is. Now go get some more rest. You’re leaving at noon.” Jeriah turned back to his report, and Zach turned to leave, right hand reaching for the tent flap.

 

He hesitated.

 

“I thought I made it clear you were dismissed?”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Zach asked, turning back. “I…my head’s still messed up from the accident last week, and I can’t remember why I have automail. Do you know?”

 

Jeriah stared at him for a minute. “You were born without your leg, and you lost your arm in a train crash.”

 

“They were two separate events?” he asked.

 

Jeriah looked down. “If that’s all, I need to read through these.”

 

“Yeah…” Zach left, mulling over the information. Two events. That didn’t seem right at all. He had been so sure it was one event.

 

He glanced back at the tent. Jeriah wouldn’t lie to him, not about this. He had just been so sure…

 

He shook his head and kept walking. Clearly, he was more messed up than he had thought. A few more hours of sleep would do him good.

 

But still…it would be interesting to see what that Mustang guy had to say. Zach toyed with the idea of sneaking into the other camp and asking him.

 

He shook his head again. That was a terrible idea for so many reasons, and would probably get him killed.

 

He made it back to his tent and lain down, staring at his arm.

 

_“Wouldn’t it be worth it if I explain things? Like how you got this arm and your left leg? How about your family? Actually, where is Alphonse?”_

 

“Alphonse,” Zach repeated the name. Just saying it made him feel happy. And then he felt incredibly lonely, because whoever this person was they weren’t with him right now like they were supposed to be.

 

But Zach was in a warzone, so if Alphonse was a civilian, that made sense. He’d be back home, safe.

 

Yeah, wherever Alphonse was, Zach was sure he was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Quietly sips tea- Yep. Alphonse is perfectly safe. Wherever he is...


	13. Weigh Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final confrontation between Mustang and Fullmetal.

By the time Mustang thought of stopping Fullmetal, the kid had already disappeared in the night. “Damn it!”

 

He stormed back to the camp where Havoc and the rest of his team were waiting.

 

“Report. Now.”

 

Havoc nodded. “From what I can tell, he’s under Commander Jeriah. He’s only been at this post for a couple of days, and as far as I can tell he only hit one other camp before this.”

 

This was a recent development, then. Mustang felt a little better.

 

“The soldiers all said he gets frequent headaches, but none of them really seem to know him. He keeps to himself, and the soldiers don’t care for him.”

 

“Do they know how he started working for Jeriah?”

 

Havoc shook his head. “Jeriah just brought him in one day and said he’d be useful.”

 

Mustang frowned. He was liking this less and less. “Did you hear anything about Alphonse?”

 

“No, nothing. I asked if anyone had seen a suit of armor and they all looked at me like I was crazy.”

 

So Alphonse wasn’t at the camp then. That was interesting. Somehow this Jeriah guy had managed to separate the brothers.

 

“Should we launch a rescue mission?” Breda asked.

 

“It’s too risky,” Hawkeye argued. “Fullmetal doesn’t think he knows us, he’d put up a fight.”

 

“But we can’t just leave him there,” Fuery said.  

 

 _What to do, what to do._ Mustang did not want to leave the kid there under any circumstances, but Hawkeye had a good point. It was risky enough just sneaking into the enemy camp, but if their target fought back it’d be near impossible.

 

This led to the question of what were they going to do once they had Fullmetal back, but Mustang shoved that aside for now. He needed his subordinate back before he could stress about that.

 

 _Well, if we can’t go get him, then we’ll have to wait for him to come to us_ , Mustang thought. Considering how close the first two attacks were, Mustang was confident Fullmetal would be sent to try again. They would just have to be patient and wait.

 

He hated waiting.

 

“Sir?” Hawkeye prompted.

 

“Fuery, I need you figure out what camp Fullmetal attacked before. Get every detail about the attack you can. I want to know timing, how he attacked, if anyone fought against him, everything.”

 

“Uh, okay?”

 

Mustang turned to the map, tapping the two spots Fullmetal had appeared already. They weren’t that far from each other, meaning the kid probably just picked a direction and ran for them. It was likely he’d show up around them again.

 

“What are we doing?” Havoc asked.

 

“Setting a trap,” Mustang replied.

 

Xx

 

Considering Mustang had had no idea how much time they would have, he was pleased with how everything turned out. His men worked through the night setting up hidden watchtowers and a special net, so that if Fullmetal tried to run again they’d be able to capture him.

 

The bait, of course, would be Mustang himself. He stood close to the border of their camp, out of sight of most enemy snipers.

 

Waiting was the hard part, but his patience paid off when the sun was high overhead. Fullmetal walked in plain sight up to the camp, apparently trusting Mustang’s previous orders to hold fire.

 

Fullmetal stopped on the outskirts of their trenches, glancing around. “Mustang! Come out and fight! I know you’re there!”

 

The colonel froze. That was the first time the kid had called him by his name. Was he starting to remember? But he still asked to fight, so maybe he only remembered a name? He flexed his hand, stretching the fabric of his gloves. Either way, that was progress. It was proof that this could be fixed.

 

Mustang stepped out into the open. “I’d hate to disappoint.”

 

“We end this now!” Fullmetal yelled, clapping. He pulled a spear out of the ground and charged.

 

“I agree!” Mustang rushed to meet the charge. He snapped, aiming a small spark to the wooden shaft. Or, apparently, what he’d assumed was a wooden shaft. The spark bounced off harmlessly, fizzling out on the ground.

 

Fullmetal smirked. “You think I’d be dumb enough to make my weapon something you can burn?”

 

Mustang smiled despite himself. “Silly me.” When the spear thrust towards him, he sidestepped and wrapped a hand around it, and then he twisted and elbowed Fullmetal in the face. The kid’s head snapped back and he loosened his grip on the spear just enough for Mustang to rip it out of his grasp altogether. He tossed the spear out of reach.

 

Fullmetal dropped and swiped his leg under Mustang’s, knocking him to the ground. Mustang retaliated in kind, and then he pinned Fullmetal beneath him.

 

“I need you to listen to me, Fullmetal.”

 

The kid’s eyes narrowed. “Stop calling me that!”

 

“Would you prefer Short-Stack? Or maybe Small-fry?” They were weak short jokes, but if any part of the kid he knew was still in there, then short jokes would be the best way to drag him out.

 

Fullmetal froze. An eye twitched.

 

Mustang smirked. _Here it comes._

 

A metal fist slammed into his face, knocking him over. “Don’t call me small!” Their positions switched, Fullmetal straddling Mustang, and he threw punch after punch across Mustang’s face.

 

 _Not quite the short-rant I was hoping for_ , Mustang mused. He shifted his weight, unsettling Fullmetal and gaining leverage to throw him off. Both of them climbed to their feet.

 

Mustang spit a mouthful of blood into the sand. He had bit down on the inside of his cheek at some point. “I always liked Runt better anyway.”

 

Fullmetal growled and launched himself at Mustang.

 

The flying fists were easy to block and avoid. “What, no short rant? Your little body all out of energy?”

 

“Shut up old man!”

 

Fullmetal managed to slip past his left guard and slam his metal fist into Mustang’s gut. The breath rushed out of Mustang’s lungs, and he reconsidered his current strategy. Clearly, trying to induce a short rant wasn’t working.

 

Before he had time to consider a new angle, a metal foot connected with the side of his head and stars bloomed in his eyes. He collapsed to the ground like a broken puppet, and Fullmetal took that chance to turn towards the camp, hands already clapping.

 

 _Fuck_ , Mustang thought, struggling to get his limbs beneath him so he can push himself to his feet. Was moving always this hard? When he finally stood up he was dizzy, and he pressed a hand to his head. Fullmetal certainly had some power behind his blows.

 

Speaking of the runt…he was jumping over the trench and entering the camp, alchemy leaving a trail of destruction behind him.

 

 _Shit_. Mustang had given orders that no one was to shoot at Fullmetal and that he should be left to Mustang, but if the kid was going to attack the soldiers directly he couldn’t fault them for defending themselves. He knew his team would hold back on the kid, but no one else knew him. The rest of the men cared more about surviving.

 

Taking a deep breath, Mustang ran after him. His head ached, but he would nurse it later.

 

The camp was already in pieces. Ground torn up, tents shredded, soldiers lying unconscious in the dirt, and gunshots ringing through the air.

 

He stamped down the fear clawing up his insides and ran faster. The path of destruction was easy to follow at least, and he caught up with the kid in minutes. Hawkeye and Havoc were both kneeling in front of him, rifles aimed. Breda was already unconscious just a few feet from Mustang, but the rise and fall of his chest assured him that the man was okay. Fuery stood with a pistol shaking in his hands behind Havoc.

 

Fullmetal stood half-crouched, eyeing the scene.

 

“My orders were not to fire at him,” Mustang said, drawing attention to himself. He could trust his team not to fire on the kid, at least. More than likely, the guns were just for show to try and slow him down.

 

The kid jumped, turning enough so that he could keep Mustang in his sight along with the three others. “You again?”

 

Mustang played with the edge of his gloves. “What, you thought one kick was enough to take me down?”

 

“Well, you stayed down long enough.”

 

“I was giving you a head start.”

 

He snorted. “Whatever makes you feel better, old man.”

 

It sounded so much like Fullmetal, like the kid who would storm into his office and banter with him before either of them actually got to the point. For a minute, Mustang actually thought it was the kid.

 

And then he charged, metal fist glinting in the sunlight.

 

Mustang jumped to the side and chopped down on the back of Fullmetal’s neck. Between the ends of the brown hair and Fullmetal’s collar, there wasn’t a lot of skin showing, but Mustang thought he glimpsed scratches in the pale flesh.

 

Not that he had time to do anything with this information before Fullmetal brought his right leg up to slam into his side. Mustang automatically caught the limb and tugged, bringing Fullmetal off balance.

 

Fullmetal clapped and slammed his hand against the ground. A column of earth shot out, crashing into Mustang’s chest and sending him flying back towards his team.

 

“Colonel Mustang!” Hawkeye yelled, immediately at his back and helping him sit up.

 

“I’m fine,” Mustang said. He never took his eyes off the kid.

 

Fullmetal righted himself, glaring at Mustang. His left hand rubbed the back of his neck where Mustang had chopped him.

 

“What do you want us to do, sir?” Havoc asked. The rifle was loose in his hands, but his gaze was also trained on the kid.

 

“Set up a perimeter,” Mustang said. “This ends here, and now.”

 

“Yes sir!” The three rushed off to do it, standing any place Fullmetal might try running.

 

The action didn’t go unnoticed by the kid. Only to him, it seemed more like they were trying to surround him. He snarled.

 

He looked like a cornered animal, and Mustang hated that. “Come on, Fullmetal,” he said. “You know we don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“I told you not to call me that!” The kid rushed him again, angry blows with little or no technique behind them. Mustang fell easily into the rhythm of dodging and blocking, rarely throwing in an offensive move. Fullmetal’s defense was as good as his offense though.

 

And then his arm didn’t move fast enough, and Mustang’s fist sailed into the kid’s cheek. Fullmetal flew to the ground, one hand raising to touch his swelling face. He glared at Mustang, peeking up through choppy brown bangs.

 

It was the same defiant look he’d had when they’d first met, before he got the automail. It made him seem so young, and Mustang instantly felt the guilt rip through him. He called him a kid all the time but he’d _forgotten_ what that meant, how young Fullmetal really was. He was fourteen years old, caught up in a war he had nothing to do with. He was a _child_.  And he was Mustang’s responsibility.

 

“Edward, I’m sorry,” he muttered, dropping down next to him.

 

The kid froze, looking at him. “What did you call me?” He wasn’t angry…just confused.

 

“Edward, your name,” Mustang said. _Had the Cretans been calling him something else? Did they take even his identity away from him?_

 

“Ed…ward? Ah!” He clutched his head, doubling over.

 

“Ed!” Mustang shouted, jumping forward. If his name was a way to break whatever hold the Cretans had on him, then Mustang would say it as often as possible. “Talk to me, Edward. What’s going on?”

 

One gold eye glared at him. “Get…away!” Ed tried to strike out at him, but there was no power behind the hit.

 

“Ed, I’m trying to help!”

 

“Don’t want it!” Another punch, also weak, but it forced Mustang to back off enough that he could climb to his feet.

 

“Edward, please!” Mustang said.

 

“Shut up!” He still clutched his head, and his whole body trembled.

 

“What’s happening, Ed?” Slowly, Mustang took a few steps forward.

 

“Stay away from me!”

 

“Not happening, Ed.”

 

Ed fell to his knees, both hands gripping his head. Pained cries fell from his lips, and each one felt worse than any hit the kid had landed on Mustang.

 

He fell to his own knees next to Ed, putting a hand on his shoulder. Edward unconsciously leaned into the touch, apparently too out of it to know what was happening. Mustang wrapped his arms around Ed. “It’s okay, Ed. We’ll get through this. Whatever’s going on, we’ll fix it. I promise, Edward.”

 

Mustang didn’t know how long they stayed in the dirt like that, or when Ed started crying. He didn’t know how often he repeated that it’d be okay, that they’d fix it. It was long enough for his knees to go numb, for his throat to go dry and beg for water, and apparently long enough for Edward to pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter. What say you?


	14. Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thus begins the aftermath

His head hurt like a bitch, his mouth felt like sandpaper, and his whole body just generally ached. All in all, not one of the best mornings Ed had ever had. Reluctantly, he finally opened his eyes to greet the day.

 

“Ed, you awake?” someone asked. A blurry face appeared in his vision, and it took a few blinks for Ed to make out Breda’s general features.

 

“Breda?” His voice was awful, like someone had dug a nail through his vocal chords and tried to tape them back together.

 

“Hey, chief, how you feeling?”

 

Ed winced and dragged a hand up to his head. “Loud.”

 

“Sorry,” Breda whispered. “I guess a headache’s to be expected right now though.”

 

“What happened? Where are we?”

 

“Um…I’m going to let Mustang answer that first one,” Breda said. He kept his voice low for Ed’s sake. “As for the second, we’re in an Amestrian military camp.”

 

Ed regretted asking. The information was not helpful, and it was only giving him a bigger headache. “So where’s Mustang?” At least the bastard colonel would give him some answers. Probably.

 

“Sleeping, finally,” Breda muttered. “He’ll be by as soon as he wakes up though, don’t worry.”

 

“Bastard,” Ed growled. Of course he wasn’t around when Ed needed him, the man had to be useless at all times.

 

“Do you need anything? Food? Water? More blankets?”

 

“Water?”

 

Breda nodded and moved out of sight. Ed attempted to sit up and immediately regretted his decision. The room spun, and his insides threatened to make an appearance outside.

 

“Easy, there,” Breda said, putting a hand on his back. He held a tin cup to Ed’s lips and helped him drink, and then he helped Ed lay back down. “Why don’t you go back to sleep until Mustang’s up?”

 

“Bastard’s useless as always,” Ed muttered, eyes slipping shut. He fell asleep in a matter of moments, pain pushed to the furthest reaches of his mind.

 

When he woke up again, he still felt as if he’d been hit by a train. And considering he couldn’t remember why, he was starting to think that was what happened.

 

Havoc’s face fell into view this time. “Hey there.” His voice was low, thankfully. Breda must have warned him to keep quiet. “How you feeling?”

 

“Like shit.”

 

Havoc nodded, like he’d expected as much. “Think you can answer a few questions?”

 

“What kind of questions?” Ed slowly sat up, forcing his sore limbs to cooperate. To his surprise there were no injuries that made sharp stabbing pains anywhere, it was just a general ache all over his body, similar to how he felt after his automail was connected. The worst was his head, and just sitting up made him dizzy and want to vomit.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Huh?” Ed blinked at Havoc. “Did you get amnesia or something?”

 

Havoc smiled. “Standard questions for anyone with a head injury. What’s your name?”

 

Well that made a lot more sense, Ed mused. “Edward Elric. I’m the Fullmetal Alchemist.”

 

The smile on Havoc’s face spread and a tension in his body was released. “Good. How old are you?”

 

Ed continued answering the simple questions, a headache blooming behind his eyes. Did he try to headbutt the train or something? That sounded like something he’d do…

 

“What’s your brother’s name?” Havoc asked.

 

“Alphonse,” Ed said. At the mention of his brother, he glanced around. He hadn’t realized it before, but the metal armor was nowhere in sight. “Where is he, anyway?”

 

Havoc’s easygoing expression slipped into a frown. “We were hoping you could tell us.”

 

That took a moment to process. They didn’t know where Al was. He didn’t know where Al was. Al was missing.

 

His little brother was missing.

 

“I want to talk to Mustang, now,” Ed demanded, throwing the blankets off and jumping out of the cot.

 

The headache spiked, pounding against his skull so hard he lost his balance. Strong arms kept him from meeting the floor and put him back on the cot. “Easy Ed.”

 

He gripped his head in both hands, biting his lip to keep from screaming. Havoc rubbed circles into his back, and Ed tried to focus on that and ground himself in something other than pain.

 

It took several minutes for the headache to subside. When it did, Ed noticed Mustang standing with his arms crossed at the tent flap.

 

“You okay?” Mustang asked.

 

“Peachy,” Ed growled. “What the hell happened?”

 

Mustang took a moment to answer. “Honestly, we’re not entirely sure.”

 

“What you just found me passed out somewhere?”

 

Mustang nodded at Havoc, and the man squeezed Ed’s shoulder before getting up and leaving the two of them alone. Mustang took a seat in the chair a foot from Ed’s cot, running a hand through his hair.

 

“What’s the last thing you remember before waking up?”

 

Ed narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want more questions, he wanted answers, especially since he still had a terrible headache.

 

“Please, Ed, I’m trying to figure out what happened too. I need you to cooperate with me.”

 

Ed wasn’t sure if it was the tone of Mustang’s voice, or the way he sagged in his chair, or if it was even the presence of the five o’clock shadow on a usually clean-shaven face, but something about the way Mustang asked warned him that he wasn’t the only one who’d been suffering lately. So he closed his eyes and tried to think back.

 

He and Al had been chasing a possible lead about the stone in…what town? Mika? Milk? Millcha? Melcher! That was it. They’d been in town, asking people about the attack. They were helping out someone at a hotel to get some info, and then someone had asked for their help in a warehouse…

 

“Ed?” Mustang prompted.

 

“We were in Melcher,” Ed said.

 

Mustang straightened. “What the hell were you doing so close to the front lines?”

 

“Following a lead. Someone asked for help in a warehouse…I remember walking in, but that’s it. Then I’m waking up here.”

 

The frown that pulled on Mustang’s face created deep worry lines in his forehead. “You don’t remember anything in between?”

 

“Maybe some dreams…why do I get the feeling you know something?”

 

“I’ll get to that in a minute. Was Al with you at the warehouse?”

 

Ed’s blood ran cold, and the wide-eyed look that raced to Mustang’s eyes was all the answer the man needed.

 

“Okay, don’t panic, we’ll find him. There’s not a lot they can do to hurt him. My guess is they took you out and threatened you if he didn’t cooperate with them, and now he’s holed up waiting somewhere.”

 

It did little to quell the fear now racing through Ed’s veins. “I need to find him. Maybe he’s in that warehouse…” He jumped to his feet and made it a step before dizziness sent him crashing to his knees, eyes shut in pain.

 

Mustang wordlessly helped Ed back up onto the cot, taking a seat next to him this time and keeping a hand on Ed’s shoulder while Ed rode out the pain.

 

Once he was able to think clearly again, he growled out “What the fuck happened to me?”

 

“We’re working on that,” Mustang said. “You good to keep talking or do you need a break?”

 

Distantly, Ed noted the gentle manner Mustang was using with him, and he was aware of the white-knuckled grip on his shoulder, but he would think about that later. “I’m good,” Ed said. He rubbed his forehead. He still felt like shit, but like hell was he going to take a nap when his brother was missing.

 

“This guy who asked you for help with the warehouse, do you remember anything about him?”

 

“Uh.” Ed tried to rack his brain, tried to think past the headache. He could only call into focus vague details, not enough to paint a full picture. “Not really.”

 

Mustang took a deep breath. “Let me know if you do remember anything.”

 

“Yeah. But y’know, you never answered my question: where and how did you find me?”

 

Several seconds passed before Mustang answered. “You were attacking this camp under orders from the Cretan army.”

 

“What?” Now his head hurt even more.

 

“I don’t know how, but they somehow got control of you, made you think you were one of them. It took a couple tries to snap you out of it, and that was when you passed out.”

 

Ed needed time to process that. “I…what? How is that even possible?”

 

“I’m looking into it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it revealed a transmutation circle. “Do you recognize this?”

 

“No…” Ed took the paper, studying it. “Some of the symbols make a little sense, but I’ve never seen this configuration before. Where did you get it?”

 

“It’s scratched onto the back of your neck.”

 

“What?” Ed reached up with his left hand, feeling the marred skin. Sure enough, there was a pattern of scratches under his hairline. “What the hell?”

 

“I have a feeling that transmutation is how they got control of you. But where they learned it and how they implemented it still doesn’t make much sense.”

 

This new onslaught of information was not helping his headache, not at all. “What the hell.” He cradled his head in his hands, trying to focus on breathing. “I was fucking brainwashed.”

 

Brother missing, strange transmutation literally carved into his skin, and he’d been brainwashed.

 

Mustang put a hand on his back again. “I promise you, we’ll find who’s responsible, and you can punch them as much as you want.”

 

Ed grinned. That did, actually, make him feel a little better. If he could just remember the _face_ he was supposed to destroy.

 

Hawkeye peeked her head into the tent. “Colonel, Fuery has another report for you.” She then smiled warmly at Ed.

 

Mustang nodded, pat Ed on the back, and stood up. “Try and get some more rest. I’ll have someone bring around some food soon. We’ll talk more later.”

 

Ed took a deep breath and nodded. Mustang gave him one last look before following Hawkeye out of Ed’s tent.

 

Sighing, Ed laid back down and threw his left arm over his face. That interaction with Mustang wasn’t anything like their usual meetings. There wasn’t a single short joke or any kind of banter. And he had never seen the colonel that worried over him before, not even when he walked into East HQ with a broken arm and crutches, or the time he had almost passed out when giving his report because he was so sick.

 

This had been…real, life-or-death worry. And Mustang had tried to be comforting, in his own way, and assure Ed that everything would work out even when he couldn’t see how.

 

It had been…nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment! It 100% affects how fast I write. It can just be saying extra kudos, I don't mind!


	15. Bobbing in the Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make some kind of progress in this hell they call war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your responses last chapter were amazing? They completely blew me away? Thank you all so much for commenting! I really appreciate it!
> 
> Also...I'm not going to make any pretenses on knowing what actually happens in a warzone, and I really don't have time to actually properly research it, so I'm kind of just guessing and making it up as I go. I apologize if that offends anyone and if I get something terribly wrong.

The tent flap closed behind him, and Mustang dragged a hand over his face. Ed was more messed up than he’d realized, not even able to get out of bed without vertigo bad enough to send him to his knees.

 

Yeah, whoever messed with that kid was going to die a painful death once the kid got his own revenge.

 

“Are you alright, sir?” Hawkeye asked. She walked just a step ahead of him, leading him to Fuery.

 

“I hate war,” Mustang muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. And because it was Hawkeye, that was all he needed to say for her to understand. He was tired and stressed and worried about his team, and he just wanted everything to be over so they could go back to whatever normal was.

 

“Well, Fuery should have some good news.”

 

“Could certainly use some right about now.”

 

Hawkeye led him to the communications tent. Fuery was set up at a table inside, radio in front of him and headphones covering his ears. He perked up at their entrance and slid half the headphones off.

 

“How’s Ed?”

 

An uncomfortable feeling stabbed Mustang’s gut. It didn’t feel like guilt (he knew what that felt like without question by now). Worry? Concern?

 

Protectiveness?

 

“He’s as well as he can be, given the circumstances,” Mustang replied. “Still needs some time to recover.”

 

Fuery frowned at that. “Does he remember where Al is?”

 

Mustang shook his head. “I’ll debrief everyone on that later. What have you got?”

 

The smile quickly returned to Fuery’s face. Mustang had to remind himself Ed wasn’t the only young one around here. “I managed to catch the frequency the Cretan’s are using for basic communication. A lot of stuff is still in code, but what they’ve been saying lately has all been straightforward.”

 

Mustang grinned. “Excellent work.” Fuery passed off a notebook of everything he’d overheard so far, and Mustang skimmed through it. There were basic attack plans, which he noted and told Hawkeye to warn the soldiers, a few coded messages from the head general that he kept track of to assign someone to later, but the pearl of the bunch was a message from Captain Jeriah.

 

He recognized the name Jeriah from Havoc’s report after Fullmetal’s second attack. He almost incinerated the notebook right there with the flash of rage it sent through him. Upon reading the message though, he was glad he didn’t.

 

_Camp still standing, no sign of the alchemist. He’s assumed dead or captured. Sending a scout for confirmation. Orders are to retrieve him if possible, kill him if not._

Well, that was certainly good to know. A punching bag was walking right towards them.

 

“Hawkeye, set up a guard around Fullmetal’s tent. I want this scout captured and questioned.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

He wasn’t happy about the potential threat, but he was happy that there was a plan, that there was something he could _do_ about all this.

 

It was starting to feel like when he played chess with Grumman. He had less pieces on the board and could never quite predict what his opponents move could be, but the pieces he had left were strategic and powerful. They were enough to win, if he played them right. And at the moment, he was beginning to see his opponent’s strategy. And once he knew the strategy, he could figure out a way to counter it.

 

This was just one big game of chess.

 

Thinking of it like that at least kept the panic from consuming him.

 

He left Fuery’s tent soon after, seeing to the preparations for an attack himself. It would be the first one in days not led by Fullmetal, but the soldiers still knew what to do. They’d known the one-on-one fights with Mustang were temporary. It was back to the basics now.

 

Soon Mustang would need to launch an offensive attack, but for now he was content to play defense and figure everything else out. Maybe once Fullmetal’s head was on straight and he had one less thing to worry about he’d consider it.

 

He managed to keep himself busy all day, running around the camp and making sure everything was ready. All the damage from Fullmetal’s last attack was already repaired, and supplies had just been dropped off that morning.

 

Better yet, Breda and Havoc were now striding towards him, a Cretan scout tied up between them.

 

_Good. Hopefully this will give me some answers._

 

A flash of gold, and Mustang realized Ed was following the trio. He was pale and shaky, but he looked determined to stay on his feet. Whether or not that was a battle the kid could actually win…well, they’d find out.

 

“Nice work, men,” Mustang said. “Get him tied up somewhere.”

 

“Yes sir,” Breda said.

 

Mustang spared Ed another glance as the two left with their prisoner. “Should I bother telling you to go lie down before you collapse?”

 

“I want answers too. I think I deserve them.”

 

“You do,” Mustang agreed. “But I’d rather you didn’t risk your health to get them.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Ed said, starting after Havoc and Breda.

 

Sighing, Mustang resigned himself to the growing ulcer.

 

Havoc and Breda took the scout to Mustang’s command tent. Spare rope bound the man’s arms and legs, and both men stayed on hand in case he tried anything. Ed had already sank onto one of the crates of his desk, glaring at the man. If he’d been fully recovered, Mustang imagined he would have been interrogating the scout already. But for once, he seemed content to let Mustang take the lead.

 

So he did. “Do you know who I am?”

 

The man, dark skinned with even darker hair, narrowed brown eyes at him. “The general in charge I guess.”

 

Mustang nodded. “I am, but I’m also more.” He pulled his gloves out of his pocket, letting the man see the red stitching as he slipped them on. “Have you heard of the Flame Alchemist?”

 

“I’m gonna guess that’s you,” the scout said. Mustang had to give him credit, he didn’t pale or shake at all.

 

Time to change that.

 

He snapped his fingers, creating a stream of fire and making it circle the scout. The scout did flinch at that, curling in on himself and drawing back from the flames.

 

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” Mustang started, “and you can choose to answer them or not. I’ll let you figure out what’s going to happen if you don’t.”

 

 _Now_ the man paled, eyeing his hands nervously.

 

Fullmetal frowned. For a moment, Mustang worried the kid might not have the stomach for this kind of interrogation, especially in his current state. But if the kid didn’t want to be coddled, then Mustang wouldn’t coddle him.

 

“I won’t betray my country,” the scout finally managed.

 

“Very honorable of you,” Mustang said. “But see, I’m not asking you to betray your country. Only your commanding officer. The name Jeriah mean anything to you?”

 

He noticed Fullmetal’s brows drawing together, a hand resting on his chin in thought, but his focus was on the scout.

 

“He’s the one who sent me after the kid, but I’m gonna guess you knew that already.”

 

Mustang nodded. “What do you know of this kid?”

 

The scout shrugged. “Jeriah showed up last week with him. Said Zach would cut our workload in half and the war would be over sooner with him. Never talked to the kid or anything, I swear.”

 

Ed’s eyes widened at Zach, but a shared glance with Mustang and a nod dismissed the name. _When did we get on the same page?_

 

“He didn’t tell you anything else about him?” Mustang asked.

 

The scout shook his head. “The kid only ate, slept, or attacked. He said we didn’t need to know anything about him.”

 

The information was interesting, but it wasn’t exactly helpful. “Did Jeriah ever say anything about where he found…Zach?”

 

Another head shake. “He just showed up. That’s all I know.”

 

 _Did they not know who he was?_ Mustang mused. He would have thought that if Creta had gotten a hold of the Fullmetal Alchemist, they would have made a big deal about it and gloated. Unless they were trying to keep it quiet, so as to not upset Amestris even more. But the trademark braid and red coat were gone…this Jeriah really might not have known just who he had brainwashed.

 

“What about a suit of armor?” Fullmetal asked. “That ring any bells?”

 

“What?” The scout twisted to try and look back at him. “No, what are you talking about?”

 

“Nevermind,” Fullmetal said, slouching on his crate.

 

“What kind of questions are these, anyway?” the scout asked.

 

“None of your concern,” Mustang answered. He stepped forward, leaning forward to be eye level with the scout. “Do you know how Jeriah convinced Zach to work for you?”

 

The scout looked completely baffled. “I don’t know. Money or something?”

 

Mustang pulled back. The scout would be useless in terms of what happened to Fullmetal, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know war tactics.

 

He motioned to Fullmetal and moved outside the tent. Reluctantly, Ed followed him. Mustang started walking back towards Fullmetal’s tent, both to be out of earshot of the scout and to get the kid back to bed.

 

“I don’t think they knew who I really was,” Ed said quietly.

 

“I had the same feeling,” Mustang said. “I also don’t think whatever Jeriah did was public knowledge.”

 

Ed snorted. “No shit. You don’t just go around publicizing your brainwashing experiments.”

 

Mustang smiled. “Maybe not, but that means the only person we can get answers from is Jeriah himself.”

 

“Unless Al knows something. Maybe he saw what happened,” Ed said.

 

“Possible, but I don’t want to count on it.”

 

Ed went quiet, and he stayed that way until they reached his tent. “Hey, Mustang?”

 

Mustang glanced down. Ed wouldn’t look up to meet his eyes. He looked small and scared, every bit the fourteen-year old who shouldn’t be in this mess. “Yeah?”

 

“Is it…Do you think it’s possible for Jeriah to get in my head like that again? I mean, the transmutation is still on my neck, so who’s to say he can’t just waltz in and activate it?”

 

It felt like his stomach dropped down to his feet. Mustang hadn’t even considered that. The obvious answer was that he would never let Jeriah within fifty feet of Edward, but things like that weren’t always in his control, especially in a warzone.

 

Both of them were going to need a little more insurance than that. An image of a burned back came to his mind, and he grimaced.

 

“I have an idea about that,” Mustang said. “But you’re going to have to trust me.”

 

Ed eyed him. “What?”

 

Mustang reached behind him to the knife at his belt. He didn’t normally carry one, but it was extra security on the front lines. “I can mess up the array. Destroy the circle…”

 

“Destroy the transmutation,” Ed finished. He eyed the knife warily, thinking about it. It didn’t take long for him to nod his head. “Okay, do it.”

 

“Let’s go inside.”

 

They moved inside the tent, and Ed took a seat on his cot. A small first aid kit was already in his tent, and Mustang popped it open and pulled out what he would need after.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Just get it over with.” He shifted so he could offer his neck to Mustang, tilting his head down.

 

Mustang pushed strands of hair out of the way and took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be the worst pain the kid had ever felt, but Mustang hated to be the cause of more pain. On the other hand, he was also offering a solution to a problem Ed had likely been worrying over all day.

 

He pressed the knife against Ed’s neck. Ed tensed at the contact, and Mustang forced himself to be quick about it and dragged the knife across the array. Dark red blood welled up, and Ed hissed, clenching and unclenching his fists.

 

Mustang made a few more marks, making sure to truly destroy the array but trying to do it in as few strokes as possible. Satisfied, he reached for the med supplies and started the process of bandaging everything.

 

Thinking about it, the placement of the array made sense. He still didn’t understand how alchemy could brainwash a person, but if it was actually possible it made sense to do it on the back of the neck. It was the closest access to the central nervous system and the spine, the easiest point into the brain.

 

He finished tying off the gauze and wiped off his knife on an extra piece. “Done.”

 

“Sure went to town on that, didn’t you?” Fullmetal grumbled, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

 

Mustang smirked. “Just like carving a turkey. You should let me do that more often.”

 

“Last time I ever ask you for help.”

 

Still smiling, Mustang ruffled Ed’s hair and stood up. “I’m going to go see what else I can learn from that scout about the war. You should get some more sleep.”

 

Ed huffed but laid down. “I was going to anyway.”

 

“Of course,” Mustang chuckled. He let himself out, glancing back as the tent flap fell to see Ed already drifting off. The white bandages wrapping around his neck stood out harshly against his skin, and Mustang could only wonder what everyone else would think when they saw them. They knew Ed didn’t have them before, and no doubt questions would arise.

 

Oh well, he’d deal with it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, really sorry about any logistics errors about war. Let me know if there's any glaring mistakes that need to be fixed and I'll see what I can do.


	16. Rough Seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The camp is under attack, but where does that leave Ed? Not looking for his brother, and that's the problem.

Ed tried to sleep. He really did. His head was killing him, and slipping away from everything for a few hours felt like a great idea. But he couldn’t get his mind to shut up, and all the information he’d learned all day kept replaying over and over in his head. The worry gnawing at his gut kept him awake as well, to the point that he was about ready to just run back to Melcher and start looking for his brother himself.

 

But no matter how badly he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t just leave. For one, in his current state he’d maybe make it to the edge of the camp before collapsing, and that wasn’t going to help anyone. For another, he didn’t want to worry Mustang by just taking off. The man was already stressed, and he’d done a lot with the promise of doing more.

 

He was a good resource. That was why Ed was waiting and trusting him. It had nothing to do with not wanting to go it alone, and nothing to do with the sense of security Ed felt around Mustang. Nothing. At. All.

 

Ed buried his face in his pillow. This wasn’t going well at all. When had he become so dependent on someone that wasn’t his brother? He should get up and go turn Melcher upside down just to spite his own traitorous thoughts.

 

Breda poked his head through the tent flap. “Hey Ed. I brought dinner.” Stepping fully into the room, he revealed a tin plate of military rations.

 

It looked as appetizing as the tent. Despite that, Ed’s stomach growled at the prospect of food and he had to wonder when he last ate anyway. He sat up and took the offered plate.

 

Breda sat down, eyes trained on Ed’s neck. “I don’t remember that bandage before,” he commented.

 

Ed shrugged. “Mustang and I wanted to make sure that Jeriah can’t use that transmutation again.” He shoveled a forkful of the brown mush into his mouth. It even tasted as bad as the tent would.

 

Breda’s eyes widened. “The colonel burned you? On purpose?”

 

“What? No, he did it with a knife. Just a few lines to disrupt the circle.”

 

“Oh…” He settled in his chair again.

 

Ed watched him while he ate. Breda still seemed uncomfortable, but Ed couldn’t figure out why. Ultimately, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “So what’s the plan now anyway?”

 

“Creta had planned to attack in another hour or so, so the colonel’s been getting the camp ready.”

 

“What does he want me to do?” Ed scraped the plate, pushing together every last morsel.

 

“You’re kidding right? He wants you to stay right here and out of trouble.”

 

Ed furrowed his brow. “I can help.”

 

“You can barely walk, remember?”

 

A minor detail, in Ed’s opinion.

 

“Nope, no, I know that look. You are staying here. _Right here_. Even if I have to chain you to the bed.”

 

“Well that’s a little extreme,” Ed muttered.

           

Breda grinned. “Maybe, but you live for extremes so it might be necessary.”

 

Ed had to concede to him on that one.

 

Breda took the empty tin plate back and stood up. “Anyway, I’ve got some other things to do. I think Fuery is supposed to come by soon.”

 

Ed nodded as Breda left the tent. If he was going to sneak off and try and be helpful, he’d need to leave now, before Fuery came. But really, he didn’t know what he’d even do. Sneak to the front lines? He’d get himself killed and then who would look for his brother. He didn’t know anything about battle strategy, so he was no help there…

 

In the end, Ed stayed right where he was, if for no other reason than he just didn’t know where to go.

 

That didn’t mean he was happy about it.

 

He ended up falling asleep. Not even the sounds of people rushing around outside his tent was enough to keep him awake, though considering his usual habit of sleeping on trains or, really, anywhere, it shouldn't have been too surprising. 

 

He dreamed while he slept, a montage of images in a sandy battlefield. Fire surrounded him, and he kept seeing flashes of blue. The face he kept seeing though...it wasn't Mustang, like he would have assumed given the heavy presence of flames. He didn't know who it was.

 

But he had a bad feeling it was Jeriah.

 

Fuery shook him awake sometime later. "Sorry, Ed. The Colonel wants us to head to the far side of camp. He had a radio strapped to his back over his white cloak.

 

Ed blinked a few times to wake himself up. Another headache was forming behind his eyes. He was sick of headaches.

 

Fuery helped him stand up and kept a hand on his back while they walked through the camp. Ed was thankful his balance seemed to be back to normal; that had been annoying, when he could hardly stand up straight because it felt like the world was spinning. He was healing. Another day and he could go after his brother in Melcher, with or without Mustang's help.

 

Fuery led him to a tent on the far side of the camp. He could make out the edge of Melcher in the distance, no more than half a day's walk away. Ed filed that information away for later use.

 

"Come on," Fuery said, lifting the tent flap. Ed walked inside. The outer edge of the tent was surrounded with a wall of crates, the contents of which Ed could only guess at. More than likely it was ammunition or food, or even extra bedding and tents. Ultimately, he decided it didn't really matter.

 

He sat down and leaned against a stack. "So we just wait here until Mustang gives us the okay?"

 

"Pretty much," Fuery smiled. He slipped the radio off his back and set it in the middle of the floor, sliding the headphones into place on his head. "I'll be able to keep updated with this, so we'll know what's going on, at least."

 

Ed crossed his arms. He hated just sitting here like this. Even worse he was following orders like a good little dog. He was going to kill Mustang for doing this to him.

 

They passed several minutes in silence, until gunshots could be heard in the distance.

 

 _People are dying out there_ , Ed thought. _And for what? Some stupid war no one even wants. Why can't everyone just get along? What's the point of all this?_

 

He covered his ears with his hands as the gunshots kept going. He didn't want to be here. He wasn't supposed to be here.

 

Mustang had tried to keep him away from this, as far away as possible. But in the end, it hadn't mattered. Ed had been dragged into it all the same.

 

It could have been minutes or hours when they finally heard footsteps outside the tent. Gunshots still rang in the distance, and there was a lot of yelling they couldn’t make out.

 

The voices outside the tent, though, they were clear as day.

 

“Start checking tents, kill anyone you find.”

 

Ed froze, and Fuery glanced at the entrance while sliding the headphones off. His eyes cut over to Ed, but the fear Ed expected to see behind those glasses wasn’t there.

 

The footsteps paused outside the tent, and Fuery was already moving. In one motion he dropped the headphones, lunged for the entrance, and pulled his handgun from behind his back.

 

Ed barely caught a glimpse of the Cretan uniform before he heard another gunshot, this one so loud it rattled his bones. The thud that followed was quiet, in comparison.

 

“What the—Hey!” someone else yelled. Fuery charged out of the tent, leaving Ed staring at the black boot in the entrance.

 

Two more gunshots echoed through his head, and Ed jumped up. He refused to look down as he barreled through the entryway, stumbling to a stop just a few feet away.

 

Fuery looked up at him with a small smile, one hand wrapped around a bleeding bicep. The other Cretan soldier lay on his back, a red hole in his neck.

 

“I think there were only two,” Fuery said.

 

Ed nodded numbly. He was trying hard not to think about it, to keep his mind away from the fact that _Fuery just shot and killed two people_.

 

Judging by the way Fuery kept his gaze on Ed, he was trying not to think about it too.

 

“Um…” Ed started. “We should…your arm. Bandage?”

 

“Yeah…yeah, probably,” Fuery said.

 

Ed held out a hand to help him up, and they made their way for the med tent. “Was that the first time…” Ed didn’t want to finish the thought.

 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to. Fuery knew exactly what he was asking. “Yeah, it was. I…they train you for it, of course, but it…it’s still so different.”

 

Ed nodded. “I’m sorry”

 

Fuery smiled at him. “Don’t be. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I want to protect people, that’s why I’m a soldier. And…my first kill…it had to happen eventually.”

 

The sentiment did little to make Ed feel better, but he was glad Fuery seemed okay. It would just be another bad memory for Ed to try and forget about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let Fuery be the hero for once...
> 
> Comments are lovely and I could really use some comments to brighten my day today!


	17. Keep a Weary Eye on the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attack is over, and Mustang makes plans to move this war along. It's all coming down to one thing: Alphonse.

The skirmish wasn’t the worst one Mustang had ever been in; thanks to the warning Fuery had given them and their preparations beforehand, Creta barely made any ground against them. When all was said and done, barely any of his men had been lost. The no man’s land between their camps, however, was littered with corpses, and crows were already feasting.

 

“We need to take out that camp and move on already,” Mustang muttered, rubbing a hand over his forehead. A headache pulsed behind his eyes.

 

At least the gunfire had finally stopped.

 

“Do you have a plan?” Hawkeye asked. She was as calm and collected as ever, even if her hair wasn’t perfectly pulled back anymore.

 

“I’m working on it,” Mustang said. If this was Ishval and he’d had a red stone, he would just march up to the camp and snap his fingers; it’d be nothing but ash in minutes.

 

But this wasn’t Ishval. And he couldn’t just incinerate everything, not when he wanted to find and interrogate Jeriah.

 

He dragged a hand over his face and saw Breda coming towards him.

 

“Status report?” Mustang asked.

 

“We’re low on ammo, but there were only fifteen casualties. About two dozen wounded as well.”

 

Mustang grimaced. The number of Cretan dead did not make him feel better about their own loss.

 

“Two scouts also tried to sneak in and find Fullmetal,” Breda went on.

 

Mustang’s blood froze and he struggled to remember how to form a sentence.

 

“Fuery took care of both of them, but one shot him in the arm. Both he and Fullmetal are in the med tent.”

 

“Ed’s okay?”

 

“Yep,” Breda said. Some kind of smug look was working its way onto the man’s face. Mustang didn’t like it.

 

“Alright, good work. Round Havoc, Fuery, and Ed up and meet me in my tent in an hour.”

 

Breda saluted, “Yes sir!” He walked off after that, leaving Mustang in his little corner with Hawkeye.

 

“The plan, sir?” Hawkeye asked.

 

“I want more information about Jeriah before we attack that camp,” Mustang said. “The only one who knows anything about him is Ed, and he doesn’t remember anything.”

 

“Are you going to try and get his memories back?”

 

“No,” Mustang shook his head. “I’m not sure I could, and we don’t have the time to find out. But there is someone else who might be able to help, if we can find him.”

 

Hawkeye furrowed her brow for a moment, and then she smiled. “You think he’ll know something?”

 

“I’m betting everything on it,” Mustang admitted. He ran a hand down his face again. He was tired. And hungry. But there was still more to do. “I need coffee.”

 

Xx

 

By the time everyone gathered, he wasn’t the only one with coffee. Fuery’s arm was bandaged and in a sling, but he wasn’t complaining or looking to be sent home. Mustang appreciated that. He’d hate to lose one of his team.

 

“Ed, have you been able to remember anything else about Jeriah?” Mustang asked.

 

The kid shook his head. “No, nothing.”

 

He’d expected that answer. “You up for travelling then?” Ed looked significantly better than when he’d first woken up, but he still seemed a little pale and shaky. Granted, he had been in a warzone today, a place he was never meant to be.

 

“Travelling where?” he asked.

 

“Hopefully only to Melcher,” Mustang said. “But if your brother’s been moved then possibly more.”

 

Ed’s eyes lit up. “We’re going after Al?”

 

“You, Breda, and Fuery are,” Mustang said. “I can’t just leave the front lines.” No matter how badly he wanted to.

 

“When do we leave?” Ed asked.

 

“As soon as you’re ready.”

 

“Any special orders?” Breda asked.

 

Mustang thought about it. “Don’t get into trouble. And keep him out of trouble.” He pointed at Ed.

 

“Hey!”

 

Breda and Fuery grinned. “Got it.”

 

The three were gone within a minute. Mustang took a long sip of his coffee.

 

“Got a job for me?” Havoc asked. His usual cigarette was gone in favor of a coffee cup.

 

“Was your position compromised the last time you went over enemy lines?” Mustang asked.

 

Havoc shook his head. “People were starting to get curious, but not terribly so. I only ran back because I got wind of the chief’s attack.”

 

“Good. Then after you’ve rested up I want you to sneak over there and find out what you can about Jeriah. His rank, his history, anything you can find. And see if you can find any alchemy connections with him.”

 

“Yes sir,” Havoc said, saluting. He was also gone in a matter of moments, leaving Mustang to slouch back in his chair and breathe.

 

“What next, sir?” Hawkeye asked.

 

Mustang rubbed a hand over his eyes. “We need supplies, and I want someone on the radio listening for Creta activity.”

 

“Consider it done,” Hawkeye said, stepping out of the tent.

 

_Bless that woman._

 

He gave himself fifteen minutes to just close his eyes and relax before heading back out to lead the troops.

 

Xx

 

Mustang didn’t sleep that night. He saw Ed and the others off, and then he turned his attention to shoring up their defense. Snipers were set up. Lookout posts were doubled. A message was sent on secure Amestrian lines that they needed more ammo. He sent out more than just Havoc to spy on the Cretans, though these spies weren’t focused on finding Jeriah. They were told to look for weaknesses in the other army.

 

By dawn he’d consumed an entire pot of coffee singlehandedly, and he was still exhausted. But he was confident all of his men were as protected as they could be.

 

More ammo would arrive sometime in the morning. The Cretans were still licking their wounds from yesterday. They were, all things considered, actually in a pretty good place.

 

There was only one thing that bothered him…

 

“Why haven’t they retreated?” he mused, looking out over the Dead Man’s Land between the armies. The Cretans were no match for the Amestrian force they were facing, especially with Mustang there. They knew that. It was probably why Jeriah had recruited some prodigy alchemist he stumbled upon in the first place. They didn’t stand a chance. The smart thing to do would be to call for a retreat and move their forces somewhere else.

 

Unless reinforcements were coming to back _them_ up. That could be a problem. It would explain the rather half-hearted attack yesterday.

 

The attack had served two purposes then. It was a cover for Jeriah to send men to look for Ed, and also a cover to hide the fact they were just biding their time. Mustang could respect the duplicity of it; it was the sort of thing he’d do.

 

And as the type of thing he’d do, there’d also be at least one more hidden reason behind both of those. That was the one he needed to figure out.

 

But maybe, maybe he’d take a nap first. Maybe the world could hold itself together for three hours so he could get some sleep. Three hours. That was all he was asking for.

 

It seemed impossible. He’d sent Hawkeye to bed a few hours ago, and she’d gone under great protest. Now he was finally lying out in his own cot. Just the chance to lie down was wonderful.

 

He was asleep in minutes.

 

Xx

 

It only took three hours to reach Melcher by jeep. Breda drove. Ed fell asleep between him and Fuery, head lolled over onto Fuery’s good shoulder. They didn’t talk much. There was nothing to say. If Ed had been awake, they might have tried to develop a strategy, but the kid needed his sleep. He was still recovering from being brainwashed.

 

They pulled into town well after sunset. Half of the town was still in rubble, but considerable effort had gone towards rebuilding. The destruction was in neat little piles, a deception of the damage really done to the place just two weeks ago.

 

Finding a hotel to spend the night proved to be a challenge. Most places were filled up with people who had lost their homes in the attack, and none of them were friendly to the soldiers. Especially when they saw the child in the jeep with them, a child with more bandages than skin showing. They finally decided to just camp out in the jeep around midnight.

 

Ed was undisturbed during the whole process, and seemed to have no problem sleeping out under the stars. Breda and Fuery were another story. They kept a watch, but it took both of them a long time to fall asleep when it was their time to rest.

 

By dawn, both men were more than ready to start the search for Alphonse and get back to the camp. Anything was better than this. And wasn’t that just the start of the irony?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the search for Alphonse has begun! 
> 
> Don't be afraid to leave some feedback! I love everything you guys have to say!


	18. Land, Ho!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Al is on!

Ed was more than used to waking up in strange places. It didn’t faze him in the slightest. Seeing Breda and Fuery was what gave him pause in the morning. He blinked at them while his mind recounted the events of the previous day and everything that had led up that moment.

 

“Morning, Chief,” Breda greeted.

 

“Morning,” Ed replied. He yawned and stretched, the various aches and pains over his body slowly coming back to him. His head still pounded, and the back of his neck ached, but he’d push through it. Al needed him. “Do we have breakfast?”

 

“Yep. Ration bars.” Breda dug in a bag in the back of the jeep and tossed a pre-wrapped package at Ed.

 

Ed eyed it dubiously.

 

“They’re as terrible as they look, but it’s what we got,” Breda apologized.

 

Ed sighed and tore the package open. The bar inside was beige and solid; it looked a dried version of the mush they'd served back at the camp. He bit down on it and almost broke his teeth. “Fuck. Is this food or a rock?”

 

“It helps if you suck on it first before biting. Or if you smash it into pieces first.”

 

“This is too much work for food,” Ed muttered, crumbling the bar in his right hand. He popped a small piece in his mouth and sucked on it until it was soft enough for him to chew and swallow.

 

Breda shook Fuery awake in the meantime. Fuery clung to his injured arm for a few minutes after first waking up, but he took his ration bar silently. He chose to gum the bar before breaking it off and chewing it.

 

“So, what’s the plan?” Fuery asked.

 

“We’ll start by retracing your steps when you were here,” Breda said, looking at Ed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

Ed thought back. He originally came here with Al to look into the attack, because some of the reports about the alchemy had sounded similar to their failed human transmutation. When they got here they’d headed for the ruined half of town, hoping to interview people. They’d been told that some hotel worker had seen something, so they’d gone there, but she’d been too busy to talk. Ed had transmuted some of the rubble to make another building, to give her more room to house people, and then he’d gone back to her…

 

This was where his memories got a little fuzzy. He thought he remembered something about a man, but he couldn’t really remember.

 

But he definitely remembered that hotel. “Al and I talked to someone at a hotel. She might know something about where we went afterwards.”

 

“Then that’s where we’ll start,” Breda said. “Finish your breakfast and we’ll go.”

 

Ed glanced down at the pieces in his hand. He still had half of them left. “I could spend all day gnawing on this and still not finish it.”

 

Fuery, who was halfway done with his, offered an apologetic smile. “You get used to it after a while. It’s really not that bad.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Breda muttered. “There’s a reason I chose to go hungry this morning.”

 

Ed agreed. He ate a few more bites, but when Fuery finished he crumbled what he had left and tossed it on the ground. “Let’s go.” With any luck they’d find Al by lunch and then stop somewhere for real food. He could do some alchemy for a restaurant to pay for it…

 

“So where’s this hotel?” Breda asked, starting up the jeep.

 

“It’s the Old Inn, just a block or two from the rubble,” Ed said.

 

“Most of the rubble has been cleaned up, actually,” Fuery said.

 

Ed blinked. “Well then it’s a block or two from where the rubble used to be.”

 

“I’ll find it,” Breda muttered. He pulled out into the road and headed for the damaged part of town. As they got closer, Ed started recognizing some of the surroundings.

 

“Turn left here!” he cried, jumping forward. If he was right, then the Inn should be on the next road over.

 

Breda turned without question. The Inn was easy to spot. It was one of the taller buildings and had the most people milling about.

 

“Huh, I wonder why that building wasn’t knocked down?” Fuery asked, gesturing to the lone structure down the road.

 

“I built that from the rubble to make more room for the people in the Inn,” Ed explained.

 

Both men glanced at him. “You built it?”

 

“With alchemy, yeah.”

 

“Holy moly,” Breda whispered. He parked the car across from the Inn, eyes still glued on the building Ed had created. It looked just like any other building on the street, though know that he knew what to look for he could see signs that it was different. The windows were just a little too low, the wood just a little too patchwork. But still, considering the whole thing had been built with alchemy…that took talent. That took a lot of talent.

 

They knew Ed was a prodigy, of course, but knowing that and seeing what that meant were two different things.

 

“It’s just a building,” Ed said. “Can we go see if anyone remembers me now?”

 

“Right, right.”

 

Breda and Fuery stepped out of the jeep and let Ed lead the way inside. Dozens of cots were lined up in the lobby, and kids were playing with makeshift toys in whatever space they could find.

 

He found Gina easily enough, standing behind the check-in counter with a pen in her hand and her gaze on a book in front of her.

 

“Hey, Gina!” Ed called, walking up to her.

 

She glanced up and her eyes widened at the sight of him. “You’re back!”

 

“Good, you do remember me,” Ed said.

 

“Hard to forget a boy who builds an entire building in minutes,” she stated. “But what happened to you? You look like you got beat up in an alley somewhere.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Really got to learn not to walk alone at night,” Ed said, rubbing the back of his head. “Listen, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for my brother.”

 

“The weird one with the scarf over his face?”

 

“Yeah, him,” Ed said. “Have you seen him lately?”

 

She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him since you two were last here. Pity you two disappeared so quickly. Town could have used some more alchemy miracles like what you did.”

 

“I’ll see if there’s anything I can do after I find A-Nick.” Ed just barely caught himself. He didn’t know if the Fullmetal Alchemist was technically still missing or not, but either way most people in this town would know Al by his undercover name.

 

He didn’t miss Breda and Fuery glancing at each other. He’d just explain it to them later.

 

“How’d you get separated?” Gina asked.

 

“To be honest, I can’t remember,” Ed said. This was the perfect transition. “Took too many hits in that alley fight, and my memory of the last week is a little messed up. This was the last place I remember being with him.”

 

Her eyes narrowed in pity. “Sorry, hun. I left you two talking about alchemy, and when I got back you were gone. I’ve no idea where you two went after that.”

 

Ed sighed and tried not to let disappointment weigh him down. “Thanks anyway.”

 

“Why don’t you try asking around? Someone else might have seen where you ran off to.”

 

“Thanks. We’ll give that a try.”

 

He turned back to Breda and Fuery.

 

“Should we split up?” Fuery asked. “We’d be able to cover more ground.”

 

Breda nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go with Ed and ask people outside. You ask around in here.”

 

“Oh, one thing,” Ed said. “I transmuted Al’s armor when we went into hiding. He’s only about six feet tall now, and with normal human proportions. He usually kept a hat on and covered his face with a scarf. And he went by Nick. I went by Zach.”

 

“You transmuted his armor?” they repeated.

 

“Well, yeah. It’s a little pointless to go into hiding and have something as memorable as Al’s armor next to you.”

 

“Good point,” Fuery said. “I’ll ask around for the description you just gave me then.”

 

“Meet back here in an hour?” Breda suggested.

 

Fuery nodded, and they split up. Most people had never seen Ed before in their life. A few recognized him as the boy who transmuted the building down the road. No one remembered Al.

 

They met up after an hour with no results, so they went back out and tried again. Breda and Ed widened their range on the street to include a few blocks around the Inn, hoping to find one person the boys had at least run into when they were here.

 

They didn’t get lucky until their fourth hour. Ed and Breda trudged back to the Inn with sour moods, but Fuery was waiting for them with an older gentleman next to him.

 

“Yep,” the man said. “That’s the boy I remember.”

 

Fuery beamed. “Guys, he said he remembers him!”

 

“What, really?” Ed asked.

 

The man nodded. He was hunched over a cane and had more wrinkles than skin on his face. “I was one of the ones who moved into that little inn you built. Was looking out the window when I saw you and that weird fellow with you come out of the hotel with another man.”

 

“Another man?” Ed repeated. “Who was it?”

 

“Don’t know. Never seen him before in my life. Had dark hair and a black coat.”

 

That description did absolutely nothing for them. Fuery matched that description, along with a dozen people they could see right here.

 

“Did you see where they went?” Breda asked.

 

“Don’t know for sure, but it seemed like you were heading south.”

 

“What’s south?” Fuery asked.

 

“It’s the industrial district,” the man replied. “Lots of warehouses and breweries.”

 

“Warehouses?” Ed repeated. His head hurt, and the room spun around him. Warehouse meant something. Why did it mean something?

 

“Ed?” Breda asked, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from swaying so badly.

 

 “ _Your alchemy would be perfect in fixing up my old warehouse.”_

_“Please, I beg you! I’m useless without that warehouse!”_

 

“We were going to a warehouse,” Ed whispered, eyes slowly widening. “That’s where we were going, come on!”

 

He ran out of the inn, Fuery and Breda barely keeping up with him, and jumped into the jeep.   


“Calm down,” Breda said. “We don’t know what happened after that. The trail could go on from here.” He was quick to start the jeep though, and even quicker to pull out into the road and head south. “Besides, we don’t know what warehouse.”

 

That was enough to dampen Ed’s spirits. They’d have to check all of them and hope that one of them triggered his memory. And Breda was right. Whatever had happened, Al probably wasn’t still here. Why would he have stuck around in an old warehouse?

 

They made good time getting to the industrial district. The good news was that it wasn’t as many warehouses as Ed’s overactive imagination was leading him to believe.

 

The bad news was that the dozen that were here were all big and were going to take forever to search through.

 

“I don’t suppose you conveniently remember which one it was?” Breda asked, shutting the jeep off.

 

“No. I only have a vague impression of a door, but all the doors look the same.”

 

“Figured as much,” Breda muttered. “That’d have been too easy.”

 

“Well, they aren’t going to check themselves,” Fuery said, jumping out and walking over the nearest one.

 

The door was unlocked, and the sound of heavy machinery was going strong.

 

Ed frowned. “The warehouse wasn’t in use.” His memory of the old metal door was silent, and he didn’t think it was just from his current head trauma.

 

“That makes this a little easier. We’ll check the abandoned ones first,” Breda said.

 

Those were harder to get into than the working ones. Until Ed used some quick alchemy to unlock the doors, and then they were able to sneak in no problem.

 

He did that to all four of the abandoned warehouses, but not a single one brought back any memories. Nothing inside any of them was familiar.

 

After three hours or searching, they regrouped outside on the street. Ed sat on the ground next to the wall. “What are we supposed to do now?”

 

“We’ll have to check the working warehouses, just in case,” Breda said. “And if that still doesn’t trigger any memories for you, we’ll check all of them again top to bottom, see if we can find any clues.”

 

“That’s going to take forever,” Ed groaned.

 

“This is the only lead we have,” Breda stated. “We have to follow it ‘til it’s dead.”

 

“Yeah, but what if Al is in trouble? We don’t have time to look behind every conveyor belt.”

 

“Unless you remember anything else, that’s what we’ll be doing.”

 

Ed sighed and looked off down the road. Several of the warehouses had closed shop for the day, and the road was mostly empty. A stray cat with a dead mouse in its mouth was the only thing around.

 

Ed narrowed his eyes and peered at the cat. It was a black, white, and orange calico.

 

“I know that cat,” he said, getting to his feet and stalking after it. It turned down a narrow path between two warehouses, and Ed ran to catch up to it before he lost sight of it.

 

“Whoa, Ed, where are you going?” Fuery asked.

 

He ran around the corner just in time to see Faust slipping through a small window at the base of the building, one of those windows from a room beneath ground level.

 

They hadn’t seen any basements in any of the warehouses. How had they overlooked it?

 

More importantly, what in the world was Al’s cat doing sneaking into one?

 

And did that mean Al was nearby?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Sunday!


	19. Charting a Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brother Reunion! Really nothing else matters compared to that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was totally going to have another Mustang POV before this chapter, just to keep with my pattern and to keep you all in suspense a little longer, but that man wasn't doing anything interesting so I decided to just push forward. You lucked out.

Ed kneeled down on the ground next to the window Faust had disappeared through. It was dark inside, so he couldn’t make out where the cat had gone.

 

He could, however, hear the voice of the person Faust had gone to see.

 

“Oh, another mouse? Thank you, Faust, really. Yum, this is delicious.”

 

Ed froze.   _That was his brother’s voice._ “Al?!”

 

“Brother?”

 

“Alphonse?” Breda and Fuery repeated behind Ed.

 

Al’s metal face came into view on the other side of the window. “Ed! You’re okay!”

 

“I could say the same to you,” Ed said. He shook on his hands and knees. The relief that Al was alright was overwhelming.

 

“We’ll be down there as soon as we can,” Breda said. “We just need to figure out how to get into the basement in there.”

 

“Yeah, fuck that,” Ed said. He clapped his hands and pressed them against the wall. Part of the wall broke away and morphed into a ladder, and Ed wasted no time scrambling down and throwing himself at his brother.

 

“Or we could do that,” Fuery said slowly.

 

Al hugged Ed tightly. Faust weaved between their feet. “I was so worried! What happened?”

 

“It’s kind of a long story,” Ed said. “And I don’t even remember most of it.”

 

“We’ll explain everything on the way back,” Breda said.

 

“Back to where?” Al asked. He happily picked Faust up and followed Ed back up to ground level.

 

“Back to camp,” Fuery said. “The colonel is waiting for us.”

 

Ed nodded in acknowledgement.

 

“Camp? What camp?” Al asked. He followed them to the jeep and climbed into the back with Faust while the others squished together on the seats.

 

“The army camp,” Ed bit out. “Like I said, long story.”

 

“We’re actually still trying to figure some of it out,” Fuery admitted.

 

Breda turned the jeep on and started making the trek back to the camp. They’d get there after dark, and the three of them would have to raid the mess tent when they got there, but waiting until morning wasn’t an option.

 

In the meantime, they filled Al in on what they knew about Ed’s recent brainwashing incident.

 

“So that’s what Jeriah was doing,” Al said.

 

“What happened?” Ed asked. “I barely remember agreeing to go to the warehouse with him, and I don’t have a clue what happened afterward.”

 

“He knocked you out as soon as we got there, and then he used you to make sure I behaved. He locked me up then. I don’t know if he ever planned on coming back.”

 

Ed felt sick to his stomach. If Al had been fully human, he’d probably be dead right now. He would have had no food or water for all that time…

 

“There was an array in the room outside my cell, but I don’t know what it was for. It had a bunch of symbols I didn’t recognize. You screamed at one point. I guess that was when he did the brainwashing. But then you left and never came back, and I started to think that maybe it hadn’t worked and I didn’t know what to do—”

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay,” Ed said, twisting back in his seat and holding Al’s hand. “It takes a lot more than some alchemical brainwashing to keep me down.”

 

Al’s eyes met his own. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

 

“Alright I’m a little sore, still, but I’m fine. Promise. Mustang’s been taking care of me.”

 

“Good, I’m glad.” Al continued stroking Faust with his other hand, but he didn’t let go of Ed. Not that Ed could blame him, he didn’t want to let go of his brother’s hand either. After however long they spent apart, the solid confirmation that the other was there and they were together again was a welcome relief.

 

Ed fell asleep like that, twisted in his seat with one arm reaching back for his little brother. It made Al happy, seeing his big brother comfortable enough to drift off in a moving vehicle, just like always. It also gave him the chance to catalogue Ed’s condition. The bandage around his neck was concerning, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed the poor sleep Ed had been getting for weeks now.

 

“Is…is Brother really okay?” Al asked, sounding small and young.

 

The men glanced at each other. Fuery smiled back at Al. “He’ll be fine. The worst of it is over. And I’m sure once we’re back at the camp, Colonel Mustang won’t make you guys hang around too long.”

 

“He just wants to see what you remember of Jeriah,” Breda added. “Once that’s over he’ll probably send you guys off again.”

 

Al nodded. “Jeriah won’t be able to hurt Brother again, right?”

 

“Not a chance,” Breda said. “None of us will let that bastard get near Ed, and the Colonel already made sure he won’t be able to brainwash Ed again.”

 

“He did?” Fuery asked.

 

“That’s what the bandages around Ed’s neck are for. Colonel slashed through the alchemy symbol.”

 

If Al had a human stomach, he would have been nauseous. “The Colonel did _what?_ ”

 

“Calm down, I think Ed asked him to do it,” Breda said. “It’s probably all surface level anyway; give it a week or two and it will be gone.”

 

The thought did little to calm Al down. Mustang had deliberately hurt his brother. That bandage was there because of a man they trusted.

 

But Ed had asked him to do it…

 

Al didn’t know what to think. He hated that his brother was hurt, but it was a relief knowing that Jeriah couldn’t just walk up and brainwash his brother again. And if it really would be completely healed in just a few weeks, then it couldn’t be that bad. It didn’t seem to be bothering Ed at all, either, if the way his head was craned was any indication.

 

Ultimately, there was nothing Al could do about it. And he didn’t want to be mad at Mustang, not when Mustang was helping them so much. Besides, they had enough to worry about without Al shunning the Colonel.

 

The rest of the drive was quiet, and it seemed to stretch on forever. Slowly but surely the sun sank behind the horizon and the tents in the distance grew larger. Breda parked the jeep and shut it off, the sudden lack of noise enough to wake Ed up.

 

“Come on,” Breda said. “Let’s go report in and then get some dinner. I’m starving.”

 

Ed yawned and stretched. “Can’t we eat first?”

 

“Sorry, but the colonel will want to know we’re back,” Fuery said. He hopped down from the jeep and held out his good arm to help Ed down.

 

“And he can’t wait another half-hour?” Ed grumbled.

 

“The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can go eat,” Breda promised, putting a hand on Ed’s shoulder and pushing him forward. “It’s not like the food is going to be that great, anyway.”

 

Ed just sighed loudly. He missed real cooking. He and Al hadn’t done any extravagant meals when they’d been in hiding, just quick and easy recipes that required few ingredients. But even that was leagues above the brown mush they served here.

 

“Faust could always hunt some field mice for you,” Al suggested, holding the cat up. “He’s really good at it. He kept bringing me all kinds of little rodents.”

 

Ed glanced back at the furball while they walked. He still wanted to ditch the cat, but he was indebted to the thing now for helping him find his brother. “He was trying to feed you?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. He was only satisfied when I pretended to eat what he brought me.”

 

The stupid cat had been trying to take care of Al. Ed would never be able to get rid of the thing now.

 

“That’s a smart cat,” Fuery said, reaching over and scratching Faust behind the ears.

 

“Think he could really find us some meat?” Breda asked. “I’d give anything for a solid meal again.”

 

“Stop talking about real food, you’re gonna make me dream about it again,” Fuery complained.

 

“It’s a beautiful thing to dream about and I will not apologize,” Breda stated.

 

Fuery sighed.

 

They reached Mustang’s tent and slipped in without a word. The man in question looked up from a map he’d been studying, dark scowl fading when he realized who it was. Beside him, Hawkeye let go of the guns she’d reached for on impulse.

 

Mustang’s brow furrowed. “Alphonse?”

 

“Yes?” Al asked.

 

Mustang and Hawkeye blinked and glanced at each other. “You look…different.”

 

“Oh, yeah, Ed did this when we went into hiding.”

 

“A seven foot tall suit of armor with spikes was a little conspicuous,” Ed shrugged.

 

Mustang just nodded once before shaking his head and snapping out of it. “Right, that was a good call. I’m glad you were able to find him so fast.”

 

“Took some digging, but we managed,” Breda said.

 

“That bastard Jeriah had him locked up in a warehouse,” Ed said, crossing his arms and glaring at the tent wall. “He hadn’t even been feeding him. If Al had his regular body…” He didn’t finish the sentence that time either. He didn’t want to.

 

“Well, we got lucky then,” Mustang said. His eyes focused on the cat, and he seemed to debate with himself if it was worth asking, but he quickly decided it wasn’t. “Al, what do you remember about Jeriah?”

 

Al related everything he’d already told his brother to Mustang. It wasn’t much, and it certainly didn’t help paint any clearer a picture of this guy. The only thing Al was really able to help them with was a description of the man.

 

When Al told Mustang about the transmutation circle outside his room, Mustang dug a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Did it look anything like this?”

 

Al took a look at it. “Yes, this was it exactly.”

 

“So when Jeriah messed with Ed’s head, he had to have a main transmutation circle and then a second one on his target to focus the alchemical energy,” Mustang mused. He looked up at Ed again. “You still don’t remember anything from the few weeks you were with him?”

 

“Just bits and pieces,” Ed shook his head, “but it’s like a dream, all fuzzy on the edges and stuff.”

 

“So, what are we going to do?” Fuery asked.

 

Mustang didn’t answer for a long time. Everyone gathered in the tent waited silently, and by the time Mustang spoke what he said didn’t surprise anyone.

 

“If Creta has the power to brainwash people, we need to know where they learned it and how. Our only lead on that is Jeriah, so we need to capture him and question him.”

 

Ed grinned and cracked his human knuckles. “Does this mean I get to punch him?”

 

“If he refuses to talk, yes,” Mustang said.

 

“I owe him a few of my own punches, too,” Al said. “He’ll talk.”

 

The adults around them glanced at each other, but none were about to argue with them.

 

“How are we going to capture him?” Breda asked. “And where are we going to keep him?”

 

“I’m still working on the details,” Mustang said. He turned back to the map in front of them. “This is their camp, and we’ve figured out this is where Jeriah usually is.” He tapped a spot slightly off-center. “I don’t know how we can get in and out without fighting off the whole army.”

 

“Simple,” Ed said. “We figure out when he’s alone and then block him off from the rest of the camp with alchemy.”

 

Mustang blinked up at him. “Can you do something on that large a scale?”

 

“Maybe not alone,” Ed admitted. He swung the back of his hand up to rap against his brother’s chest. “But I’m not exactly alone, am I?”

 

“We can do it,” Alphonse agreed.

 

Mustang frowned at them. They could see the arguments forming in his mind, could practically hear the “You’re just kids” speech he was about to say.

 

So they spoke first. “After everything that bastard did to us, you can’t expect us to sit back while you do all the work,” Ed said. “I want to be part of every step to bring him down.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” Mustang said. “You alchemy idea is a good one, and it might be the easiest way to avoid a major confrontation.”

 

“But if we kidnap their commander, the army will know we did it,” Hawkeye pointed out. “We’ll need to be ready for a counterattack.”

 

Mustang nodded. “There are still a lot of details to work out.” He dragged a hand over his face. “Either way, we aren’t starting anything until tomorrow. You two go get some rest. I’ll let you know what the plan is in the morning.”

 

The brothers nodded, and they walked back out of the tent, passing Havoc on the way out. Breda and Fuery came with them while they went to the mess tent, and then Fuery showed them the way back to Ed’s little tent. A few extra crates of ammo had been stored in there while Ed was gone, but his cot was still bare and that was all he cared about.

 

Al took a seat in the chair while Ed lain down, stroking Faust in his lap. It felt so much like any other night. They were together, and that was all that mattered. Tomorrow they would kick Jeriah’s ass, and everything would be right with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming up on the end! And I've had terrible writer's block for two weeks now. It's been a struggle to get these chapters out for you. I'm hoping I can keep my schedule for you guys, but I'm also working a lot this week so I don't want to make promises I can't keep. But, hopefully you'll see me again on Thursday!


	20. Hoist the Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Payback is nice, really, really nice.

 

Mustang was relieved for more than one reason to have Edward back where he could keep an eye on him. It had made him more anxious than usual when the kid had gone out to Melcher, but he attributed that to all the stress he was under. It was a warzone, after all, and Mustang had only just gotten the kid back from some brainwashing psycho.

                                           

And he had to admit, their idea of using alchemy to create their own path to Jeriah was a really good one. They wouldn’t have to deal with any other soldiers, Jeriah would be penned down with nowhere to go, and it would involve very few people to pull off. Mustang would probably only need his personal team for the mission.

 

Which was good, since, as Hawkeye pointed out, he would need every other soldier waiting for the counterattack.

 

That would be easy enough to deal with. Without a commander the army would be a scrambling mess for a while, until someone stepped up and took charge. And if they were able to get Jeriah out quietly enough, it may even be a while before they realized they had no commander.

 

It could work. Mustang just really, _really_ did not want to involve Ed and Al in the operation. This wasn’t like their usual missions to knock a heretic in some backwater town down a few pegs. This was war. There was a lot that could go wrong at any time. One miscalculation, one second of oversight, and he could have a whole new brand of guilt to keep him up at night.

 

“Sir, I have an idea about what do with Jeriah once we capture him,” Hawkeye said.

 

Mustang looked up at her. “I’m all ears.”

 

“It’ll be tricky getting him there, but that warehouse they said Alphonse was locked up in must have been fairly secluded,” she said.

 

Mustang leaned back in his seat. A secluded warehouse meant a quiet place to interrogate the bastard where civilians wouldn’t hear him scream. And Melcher was far enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about the battle that would break out.

 

But it would mean Mustang would be leaving the frontlines, and he wouldn’t be readily available if they needed him either.

 

“Captain Vikash should be able to take command again while we deal with this,” Hawkeye said. “As you said, if Creta is able to use some brainwashing power, it’s vital we determine how big a threat this is. He managed well before we got here.”

 

That was true. And in the grand scheme of things, it was far more important that Mustang determine if Amestris was about to deal with a whole new brand of warfare. And Captain Vikash would certainly be able to handle a battle or two without him. Like Hawkeye said, he’d managed just fine before Mustang showed up.

 

“Send him in,” Mustang said. Things were falling into place, just the way he liked it.

 

Xx

 

Ed and Al were briefed on the plan just after breakfast the next morning. They would be leaving in another hour, after Mustang got a few more things prepared and was satisfied the camp would be okay without him for a day.

 

Once all that was complete, they got started. Al left his cat in Ed’s tent (with very firm instructions to stay put and wait for him, apparently). Then Ed and Al drew a circle on the ground outside the camp and pressed their palms to it. A tunnel carved itself out of the ground, burrowing right into the camp and giving them safe passage all the way across No Man’s Land.

 

Fuery and Breda stayed back with two jeeps, ready to drive off as soon as the others returned. Mustang lit a flame just over his palm and led the others through the tunnel. It was a bit of a tight fit, but considering how long the tunnel was Mustang wasn’t about to complain. It was an impressive bit of alchemy.

 

At the end of the tunnel, Ed created a hold to peep out of and judge where they were. “Alright, this is close enough. Al, you ready?”

 

“Yep!”

 

Ed drew another transmutation circle on the ceiling of the tunnel and both boys again pressed their palms to it. Light burst into the tunnel. It came from the alchemy and the sudden loss of the ceiling as the ground shifted, building towering walls in the enemy camp.

 

Men shouted and jumped out of the way. Not all ended up outside their little path, but Hawkeye and Havoc were quick to take them out.

 

“Let’s go,” Mustang said, extinguishing the flame in his palm and running through the camp.

 

Ed jogged alongside him, rage twisting his features. “I remember this camp,” he growled. “Jeriah’s tent is that one with the flag over there.”

 

A man walked out of the tent as they spoke, a rifle in his hands.

 

“That’s Jeriah!” Al said.

 

Jeriah caught sight of them and narrowed his eyes. “Zach, you little traitor.” He lifted the gun.

 

Mustang snapped his fingers and sent a ring of fire around the man. Jeriah yelped and stumbled back, throwing his arms over his face.

 

Ed jumped over the flames and slammed his metal fist into Jeriah’s face. “Next time you brainwash someone, maybe don’t send them up against their _commanding officer!_ ”

 

Jeriah spit out a bloody tooth and glared up at him. “You’re a child, you don’t have a commanding officer.”

 

“Ever heard of the Fullmetal Alchemist?” Mustang asked. He let the flames die down while he walked over them, an impressive entrance if he did say so himself.

 

Jeriah’s face paled, and he looked Ed over again.

 

“Yeah, that’s right you bastard. You messed with the wrong alchemist!” Ed said. He stomped his metal foot in Jeriah’s stomach.

 

“But…you’re…a child…” Jeriah wheezed, hands clutching his abdomen.

 

“So am I,” Alphonse said. “And you were going to just let me die.” He grabbed Jeriah by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground.

 

Mustang could only imagine all the times he’d done that in his regular form, seven feet tall and intimidating spikes right in their opponent’s faces.

 

“You’re…” Jeriah’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

 

Havoc came up next to Mustang. “We should probably get moving if we want answers out of this guy by sunset.”

 

“Right,” Mustang said. “Hawkeye?”

 

She appeared next to him with handcuffs and quickly had Jeriah’s hands behind his back while he was disoriented from shock and all the hits Ed had given him.

 

“Let’s go,” Mustang said.

 

Al threw Jeriah over his shoulder effortlessly and the group moved back towards the tunnel. The few corpses on the ground were easy for Mustang, Hawkeye, and Havoc to block out, but he caught Ed and Al staring at them.

 

He put an arm around Ed’s shoulders to guide him forward, going so far as to physically turn his head away from the carnage.

 

So much for protecting the kid from all of this.

 

Once they were back in the tunnel, Ed closed off the entrance behind them. It was only a thin layer of ground, and if anything with substantial weight actually set foot on it, it would probably collapse. But the walls were still up, so it would be a while before anyone could think of walking on top of the tunnel, and they would be long gone by then.

 

Jeriah tried to cry out for help once, but Hawkeye swiftly slammed the butt of a pistol to the back of his head and he went limp.

 

Havoc jogged ahead to let Breda and Fuery know to start the jeeps, so by the time Mustang and everyone emerged on their side of the front lines they were ready to go.

 

He caught a glimpse of Captain Vikash while they all loaded into the two jeeps, and the captain saluted when the jeep lurched forward. Mustang saluted back.

 

The camp was in Vikash’s hands now. Mustang only hoped he hadn’t left him a mess he couldn’t clean up. Oh well, now he could do what he’d been wanting to do for ages: pulverize the crap out of the bastard that fucking brainwashed his youngest subordinate.

 

The thought brought a sadistic smile to his face. Oh he couldn’t wait for this interrogation. Weeks-no, months-of stress were about to finally have an outlet.

 

He was only sorry it would take three hours to get to the warehouses.

 

He was not sorry Jeriah needed to be knocked out twice more on the way there. And Edward was more than happy to do so.

 

Mustang wasn’t the only one with a sadistic grin on his face that car ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeriah is just one of those characters where it's really satisfying to see him get punched in the face, am I right? I've been looking forward to writing that moment since I started this fic. 
> 
> Don't forget to review!


	21. Bilge Rats Belong in the Brig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see Jeriah finally pay for what he's done.

They used the same warehouse Jeriah had used, tying him to a chair in the hidden basement level. He woke up not too long after, dazed and disoriented from the many hits to knock him out, but he was quick to figure out what was going on.

 

He strained against the ropes. “You can’t keep me here forever. My men will find me.”

 

“Your men barely even know you’re missing,” Mustang said. He stood next to Edward and Alphonse in front of Jeriah. Hawkeye and Havoc were a few feet away on either side, and Breda and Fuery stood guard at the doors.

 

“Besides, we aren’t keeping you here forever,” Ed said.

 

“Just until you tell us what we want to know,” Al finished.

 

“I’m sure you can take a few guesses as to what that would be,” Mustang said. His fingers twitched in his gloves.

 

Ed’s own fingers twitched against his sides; he wanted to punch this guy a few more times, knock out a few more teeth.

 

“You want to know why I kidnapped the kid,” Jeriah said. His face was already swelling from where Ed had punched it earlier, and a few specks of blood dotted his chin.

 

“Oh I know why you kidnapped him,” Mustang said. “You saw his alchemy skill and wanted to turn him into a soldier. That’s obvious.”

 

“What we want to know is how you learned how to brainwash people,” Ed growled.

 

“And you think I’m going to tell you just like that?” Jeriah asked. He laughed. “Come on, where’s the real threat?”

 

Mustang snapped his fingers and fire coiled around Jeriah; it wasn’t close enough to burn him, but the heat was enough to make him sweat.

 

“I think you’ll find fire is a very dangerous threat,” Mustang said. He glanced back at Ed as he strode forward. “Have you ever had third degree burns?”

 

“Go ahead and do your worst, Colonel,” Jeriah said. “No soldier joins the Cretan army without expecting this to happen one day.”

 

“Oh, you all expect to be interrogated by me? I’m flattered,” Mustang said. He circled around Jeriah, snapping his fingers again and holding a flame over his index finger. He trailed it dangerously close to Jeriah’s face, almost in his eye. “Do you really know how powerful fire is?”

 

Jeriah snorted. “If you were going to hurt me, you would have done it already.”

 

Mustang pressed the flame to Jeriah’s cheek. “Like that?”

 

Jeriah hissed and twisted in his chair, trying to get away from it.

 

Mustang pulled his hand back. “I wouldn’t test me, Jeriah. You kidnapped my subordinate and turned him against me. I tend to take those things personally.”

 

Ed knew this was all intimidation, knew they had to make sure Jeriah knew how serious they were, but something about Mustang’s methods still sat heavy in his gut. He’d never seen an interrogation before, only heard about them, and he thought he’d be able to stomach it, especially against Jeriah. Hell, he’d been itching to throw a few more punches just a few moments ago. But there was something drastically different about throwing some punches and burning someone. Bruises would fade; burns were permanent.

 

Still, there was no backing out now. They needed answers. Mustang knew what he was doing; Ed would just have to trust that.

 

Havoc moved a little closer to him, his arm brushing Ed’s. His presence helped ground Ed, helped him steel himself and stand a little straighter. Hawkeye moved closer to Al, but Ed wasn’t sure how comforting Al could find it. Hopefully this wouldn’t traumatize his little brother too much. Al had every right to be here, he’d been hurt by this man too, but Ed still wished Al didn’t have to see it.

 

“Sounds like you let your emotions get the better of you,” Jeriah said.

 

Mustang only grinned. “Maybe I do. But if that’s the case, you might want to avoid pissing me off. It would be pretty easy to burn you to a crisp where you sit right now.” He poised his fingers next to Jeriah. “So, care to test me?”

 

Jeriah eyed Mustang’s fingers for several moments.

 

“I should warn you, I’m not a patient man,” Mustang said.

 

Jeriah grinned. “But if you kill me, then you’ll never get the answers you want.”

 

A metal fist slammed into his face, snapping his head to the side. Ed growled at him. “You’d be surprised what you can live through.” He would know. He’d lost his arm and his leg at once, had been bleeding out and delirious with pain; yet here he was.

 

As an extra show of intimidation, Ed transmuted his arm into a blade. Mustang smiled down at him.

 

“So, Jeriah, the choice is yours. Tell us all about this brainwashing alchemy of yours, or we start the painful part of interrogation.”

 

Jeriah glanced between Ed’s blade and Mustang’s fingers. It wasn’t hard to see the thought process going on in his head.

 

Finally, Jeriah hung his head. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I created the alchemy myself. No one else knows how to do it. My brother is a general and when I told him about it he asked if we could use it in war, so I started experimenting to see how far I could push it. When I tested it on an Amestrian prisoner and turned the man against his own people, we realized I could use your own alchemists against you and that Creta actually stood a chance.”

 

“But how does it work?” Ed demanded. “How can you just take free will away from a person?”

 

“I don’t,” Jeriah admitted. “Every action you took was your own decision. I just manipulated your memories until you turned into something I could use.”

 

Ed’s skin crawled. He’d rather have been straight up brainwashed.

 

“And if this man is your commanding officer, it makes sense you were able to break the manipulation. He triggered too many of your real memories,” Jeriah said.

 

Ed still didn’t fully understand how Jeriah had created such a twisted alchemy, but he didn’t want to anymore. This was sick.

 

“That still doesn’t explain why you left Al locked up in a warehouse,” Hawkeye stated. “Were you hoping he would just die?”

 

“He was no use to me,” Jeriah shrugged. “And I figured the kid would either stay my puppet long enough to truly forget about him, or he’d be killed in battle.”

 

Yeah, okay, that was enough. Ed had had it.

 

He launched himself, fists flying, at Jeriah, and punched every inch of the man he could get his hands on. A nose crunched under his right hand, an eye swelled under his left, the man doubled over the punch to his stomach.

 

And it felt _so good_ to just wail on the guy. Ed could have done this all day. And it appeared Mustang and the others were going to let him.

 

Al, however, was not. “Okay, brother, you made your point,” he said, wrapping two metal arms around Ed and dragging him back. Of course it was Al who stopped Ed’s rampage. Al was the kindest, most gentle soul that ever existed, and he _would_ take pity on a bastard like Jeriah.

 

Though, looking over his handiwork, Ed decided that Jeriah at least looked like someone that needed pity now. Ed was immensely proud of himself.

 

He caught Mustang giving Hawkeye a look and then the man was guiding both Ed and his brother out of the room.

 

“I’m not going to apologize for that,” Ed stated as soon as they were in the hall.

 

Mustang shook his head. “I don’t expect you to. Personally, I think he deserves a few more punches.”

 

“It would be my pleasure,” Ed said, making to walk back in there.

 

Mustang grabbed his arm and hauled him back. “Hang on, we can’t just go beating him up because we feel like it.”

 

“You have any other reasons for beating someone up?” Ed demanded.

 

Mustang gave a wry smile. “Look, I’d love to let you loose on him, but he’s a prisoner of war, and there are certain guidelines we need to follow.”

 

Ed narrowed his eyes. This was sounding far too logical for his liking.

 

“So if we just beat him up and he’s ever set free, he could claim unfair treatment and charge Amestris,” Al said.

 

Ed whirled on him. “How the hell do you know that?”

 

“It just makes sense,” Al shrugged.

 

“And you’re completely right,” Mustang said. “I’m not inclined to set him free, but we don’t know what the future holds and we don’t want to set ourselves up for something to bite us in the ass later.”

 

“Okay, fine, I won’t go back in and beat him up,” Ed said. “But if he doesn’t cooperate can I still punch him?”

 

“Actually, I was thinking you don’t need to go back in at all,” Mustang admitted.

 

“What?” both brothers exclaimed.

 

“I think we got everything about the alchemy that we wanted to know,” Mustang explained. “And there’s no reason for you two to stick around while we question him about Creta’s movements.”

 

“So you want us to just sit out here?” Ed demanded.

 

Mustang shook his head. “I want you two to go back into hiding.”

 

Ed blinked. “Go back into hiding? Can we even do that even though you’ve found us?”

 

Smirking, Mustang said, “No one ever reported that you were found. Central doesn’t ever need to know that you were here.”

 

“Won’t someone squeal?” Ed asked.

 

“Most of the men don’t know who you are, and the others will probably just assume I sent you off on an assignment. The rest will just be glad a kid like you is away from the front lines.”

 

That made sense, Ed supposed. But he hated hiding. It felt so useless. And it was boring.

 

Mustang turned back towards the door where everyone else was. “I don’t think this war is going to go on much longer, so just lay low until then.”

 

“We will,” Al promised.

 

Mustang smiled over his shoulder. “And do me a favor? Let Hughes know you’re okay somehow. He’s been driving himself mad with worry.”

 

Ed smiled too. This would be the last time they’d see each other for a while. “We will. Take care of yourself Mustang. War is pretty dangerous.”

 

“Don’t have to tell me,” Mustang muttered. He walked back into the room, leaving the brothers to fend for themselves.

 

They wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

“Come on, let’s go,” Ed said, leading the way out of the warehouse. “I guess we’ll head back to the camp first to pick up your cat, and then we’ll catch the first train out of here.”

 

“Um…we don’t need to go back to the camp,” Al said. He tapped his forefingers together.

 

“What? Don’t tell me you’re willing to just abandon that cat?” Had Al somehow been brainwashed without Ed knowing?

 

“No, no, I don’t want to leave Faust behind, but, um…” Al tipped over and took his head off, letting Ed look inside.

 

Disbelief filled Ed and he peeked inside his brother. There was as much room as normal, with the whole altered appearance thing, but there was still a decent cavity in Al’s chest that he’d stuffed with blankets and made a nest in. And there, sleeping away in the nest, was Faust.

 

Ed blinked at his brother. “Did you know…why would you…you know what? I don’t want to know,” he decided, throwing his hands up. This made things easier at least.

 

Al also produced Ed’s watch from the hollow in his arm, which also made paying for a train ticket easier. Ed withdrew a bunch of cash from the bank, sending up a ton of red flags in Central, he was sure, but as they settled on a train seat he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

 

“So, did you ever find out what caused all the red alchemy the night Melcher was attacked?” Al asked just as the train started to pull away from the station.

 

Ed’s eyes shot open. He groaned and bit out several curses. No, no he had not figured out what that was. He’d forgotten all about it. “ _Damn it_.”

 

“It’s okay,” Al soothed, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “If Jeriah had anything to do with it, it was probably something we don’t want to mess with.

 

While that was true, Ed still couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. That had been the whole reason they were in this mess to begin with!

 

“ _Damn it_ ,” he said again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I use a line from Aladdin: Return of Jafar? Yes, yes I did. Virtual cookies for anyone who knows which line it is. 
> 
> Stay tuned for an epilogue!


	22. Safe Harbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maes Hughes has gets the closure we all want.

Just when Maes thought the trail had gone cold and he was never going to see those adorable and irascible brothers again, he got wind that Ed’s account had been used. It was another withdrawal for a large sum of cash and then train tickets. Maes could only assume the train tickets were a false lead, but he couldn’t figure out why. Obviously Ed knew the military was looking for him, so he was limiting how much he used his watch, but he was still using it to buy train tickets, all but announcing where he was going. They had to be a fake lead. There was no other reason to buy them with the watch after withdrawing so much money. But why bother with a false trail? It was like he was trying to hide from the military, which didn’t make any sense. He relied on them too much.

 

Unless…maybe he’d changed his mind? Maybe Ed had realized the military was no place for a kid, no matter how talented he was. But he still needed money for his research, so he kept the watch, changed his hair, and laid these false trails to keep the investigators running in circles.

 

It was plausible. And Maes couldn’t blame him if that was what he was doing.

 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried, though. Just because the military was no place for a kid didn’t mean the rest of the world was much better, especially when it looked like Ed and Al were still on their own.

 

He leaned back in his desk chair and pushed his glasses up to his forehead, rubbing his eyes. He had a headache. He’d gotten a call two days ago that Ed’s account had been used, and he’d been wracking his brain ever since trying to figure out _why the hell_ Ed had been in Melcher. He had to know the place was crawling with military. Hell, Roy was deployed there right now.

 

Man, Roy would be pissed when he found out how close he’d been.

 

In the meantime, Maes was forced to face the fact this had hit another dead end.

 

He glanced at the clock and winced. He was supposed to have been home an hour ago. Gracia would understand, of course, but it was hard to explain why he was working so hard to his little girl.

 

Sighing, he started gathering his things. Everyone else had already gone home, leaving him to turn off all the lights as he went.

 

Maybe it was time to declare this a cold case. Ed clearly didn’t want to be found, and the kid was smart enough to stay in hiding forever if he really wanted to. All Maes was doing was distancing himself from his family and giving himself ulcers.

 

Of course, even if he did declare it a cold case that wouldn’t stop his worrying. He just needed _to know_ and _understand_. His curiosity and inability to let anything go were usually his greatest assets as an investigator, but it made these unsolvable cases unbearable. He had no doubt it would be his downfall one day.

 

He was only able to cheer himself up on the way home by thinking of his two wonderful girls. Tonight, after dinner, he’d ask Gracia to read for them while he held both of them close. It didn’t matter what she read, so long as he could hold them.

 

The smile when he unlocked the front door was real, at least. Elysia’s little feet pounded on the other side, rushing to meet him. “Daddy’s home!” he announced, scooping his baby girl up as soon as he opened the door.

 

“Daddy, daddy!” she giggled.

 

“How’s my little angel?”

 

She started babbling and played with the stars on his coat.

 

Gracia walked into the room, wiping her hands on a towel. “Welcome home, dear.” They exchanged a quick kiss. “No new leads, I take it?”

 

Maes sighed, good mood gone. “None. I just don’t understand what he’s thinking.”

 

Gracia gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t give up yet. I’m sure he’s a lot closer than you think.”

 

He offered a tired smile back at her, and then he yelped when Elysia pulled on his hair. “Now, now, what have we said about hair pulling?” Maes chastised.

 

Gracia smiled, shook her head, and walked back towards the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. And we have guests.”

 

“Wha- really? Who is it? You didn’t have to wait for me if you had company,” Maes said, following her. Elysia squirmed to be put down so he obliged, and she ran off with a giggle.

 

Gracia didn’t answer him, leaving him to walk into the kitchen and see for himself just who was gracing their presence.

 

He was glad he’d already put Elysia down, otherwise he might have dropped her.

 

(Not really, he would never drop his baby girl)

 

“Hey, Colonel Hughes! Long time no see!” Ed greeted, smiling and waving without a care in the world. He sat on the floor in the middle of a bunch of alchemy-made toys, his hair short and brown and wearing the most normal outfit Maes had ever seen him in.

 

Al-at least, Maes assumed the metal man next to Ed was his brother- sat next to him. Elysia was currently using him as a climbing gym. He held a calico cat in his lap.

 

“You…you’re…but…missing…”

 

Ed winced. “Yeah…sorry, about that. You can’t tell anyone I’m here, by the way. Mustang just said you were worried and it would be nice to let you know we were okay.”

 

Maes only held on to one part of all that. “ _Roy’s in on it?”_

 

“Maes, don’t yell,” Gracia admonished.

 

“Sorry, but…but _what?”_ Maes demanded. He’d thought Roy was as worried as he was! If he found out that that little backstabber had known where Ed was all along there were going to be _serious consequences_.

 

Ed just shrugged. “Mustang wanted me to lay low for a while with the war going on.”

 

“ _It was his idea?_ ”

 

“Maes!” Gracia reminded.

 

Maes rubbed his forehead. “Someone explain this to me from the beginning, please, before I have an aneurism.”

 

“Can we eat while we do it? I skipped lunch and dinner smells really good,” Ed said.

 

“Of course, come on,” Gracia said. She grabbed a tray from where she’d been keeping it warm in the oven and led them into dining room. The table was already set and Ed took his customary seat. Al put Elysia in her high chair and sat next to his brother.

 

Gracia served them, and Ed started explaining what had been going on between bites of food, Al taking over whenever Ed actually ate.

 

It sounded so much like something Roy would do, Maes couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out. Some best friend he was. He’d thought Roy hadn’t seemed as worried about Ed as he should have, but he’d put it down to stress about the war and whatever else happening over in East.

 

The boys finished explaining just as everyone was scraping the last bits off their plates.

 

“I still don’t understand why you went to Melcher,” Maes said.

 

“That attack had a lot of strong alchemy, so we wanted to check it out,” Ed shrugged.

 

“That was still risky,” Maes said. His confusion and shock were finally giving way to his normal thought processes again, and he was left with worry and overwhelming relief that the kid was okay. “All those soldiers…plus, what would you have done if Roy saw you?”

 

Both boys gave nervous chuckles. Ed reached up to scratch his cheek with a finger. “Um…he knows we were there. There was…an incident.”

 

“An incident?” Maes repeated.

 

Ed glanced at Elysia and Gracia, and the look was clear enough.

 

“I’ll start cleaning up,” Gracia offered. “Come on, Elysia.” The two girls disappeared into the kitchen, the table now cleared off.

 

The boys then explained the last few weeks of their adventure. Maes sat silently, too stunned to process things fully. Brainwashing alchemy was possible? Why was it possible? Why did this freaky thing need to get even freakier?

 

“But we’re perfectly fine now,” Ed said with a grin.

 

Maes stood up from his chair and walked around the table, gathering both of them into a tight hug. They were both stiff, but they relaxed into it after a few moments.

 

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” Maes said. “I’ve been worried about you.”

 

He was going to _kill_ Roy for doing this to him, but he understood the reasoning.

 

“Yeah, we missed you, too,” Ed said.

 

Maes pulled back, smiling, and ruffled Ed’s hair. Hard to believe he’d been worrying so much about these kids just two hours ago, and now here they were, perfectly safe. And other than the last two weeks, they’d been perfectly safe the whole time. And while they were probably going to disappear again after tonight, at least he knew they would be okay. It would be his job to keep investigations off their tail, a task he’d do gladly if it meant keeping them as far away from the frontlines as possible.

 

They didn’t stay much longer, just until Elysia went to bed. Gracia and Maes stood in the doorway, the brothers now out in the hall and ready to go.

 

“I guess we better hope Roy finishes up this war soon,” Maes said. “So you can come round for dinner again.”

 

Ed snorted. “Please, if we leave it to him I’ll never be able to come out of hiding.”

 

“I don’t know, after everything they did to you he’ll probably burn their army to the ground on principle.”

 

“Whatever way is fastest for him to go back to doing nothing all day,” Ed said, rolling his eyes.

 

Maes grinned. “Take care of yourselves out there, you here?” He wrapped an arm around Gracia and held her close. Letting these kids go was always the hardest thing he had to do.

 

“And don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything,” Gracia added.

 

“We will,” Al promised. The cat he’d had earlier was stashed away in his hollow armor (which still creeped Maes out, if he was honest).

 

“Alright, now get going, before someone sees you,” Maes said.

 

Ed smiled and nodded, waving. “Thanks for dinner. We’ll see you around.”

 

“Thank you!” Al added, giving a small bow. Both boys turned and walked off. Maes and Gracia watched them until they turned the corner.

 

It was bittersweet watching them leave, but at least Maes knew they were okay. They’d be smarter this time and stay away from the warzone, so they should be perfectly fine once they were out of the city.

 

Yeah, those boys were perfectly fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you all so much for reading this and sticking with it for so long! I really appreciate it, you have no idea!


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